


Once Upon a Dream (I Knew You)

by amagicalship



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Duckling AU, Enchanted Forest AU, F/M, Princess Emma, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9314639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amagicalship/pseuds/amagicalship
Summary: What happens when a dashing rapscallion crashes the royal ball in Misthaven? (No curse AU)





	1. Chapter 1

Emma was utterly, despicably, undeniably bored. After spending over an hour in the receiving line greeting guests and then being forced to converse with noble dignitaries at the banquet table, she was ready to tear her constricting dress right off and go fleeing from the castle.

 

Of course, that would be an entirely scandalous thing for a princess to do, and though many words may describe her - stubborn, strong-willed, independent - scandalous was not one of them. For as much as she longed for a less restrictive role in life, she loved her parents dearly and would never do anything to disappoint them so gravely.

 

She just... _skirted_ around the rules sometimes, that’s all. Nothing that her own adventurous mother hadn’t done at some point.

 

And so it was that she was making her way around the perimeter of the ballroom, hoping to avoid dancing with yet another long-winded duke or worse yet - some prince deadset on seeking her hand in marriage - when she nearly ran right into the lean form of a dark haired stranger, also seemingly hiding in the shadows on the edge of the ballroom.

 

“Sorry!” she said quickly, stepping back and attempting to regain her bearings. Her eyes scanned slowly up his body, taking in the close fit of his dark trousers and the outrageous amount of chest hair on display due to his barely-buttoned shirt. If that wasn’t enough to make her gasp, the lecherous grin he was giving her as his (shockingly blue) eyes perused her figure was, his eyebrow arching nearly to his hairline.

 

“No need to apologize, love,” his rich baritone sent shivers down her spine as he slid forward, taking her hand and lifting it to his mouth to place a soft kiss atop her knuckles, his eyes raising to meet hers from beneath sinfully long lashes.

 

His lips were soft and warm, but his scruff tickled her skin - sending a bolt of electricity all the way up her arm, and Emma jerked her hand away, feeling her pulse pound heavily.

 

“I’m not your love,” she reproached him, crossing her arms over her chest. A very unladylike habit, to be sure, but she’s certain her father would approve given the circumstances.

 

Of course, her protestation only made the mysterious man grin wider, his eyes dancing with mischief.

 

“Just who are you, then, _love_?” he asked, tilting his head at her as he edged his way into her space, just a bit closer than proprietary rules would abide, the path his gaze was searing across her cleavage lacking any propriety at all.

 

Emma huffed in exasperation, pressing her lips into a thin line. Who doesn’t recognize the crown princess at her very own ball? Was this supposed to be some kind of joke?

 

Never one to back down from a challenge, however, Emma edged herself even closer to the man, until it seemed their toes were about to touch. Lifting her chin in defiance, she narrowed her eyes at him, trying desperately to convince herself that he wasn’t the most handsome man she had ever seen, or that the dimple in his cheek wasn’t completely and utterly charming.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she finally answered him, gripping her arms tightly across her body.

 

His eyes flicked over her face, studying her in a way that was more unsettling than his ogling had been.

 

“Perhaps I would,” he said softly, tilting his head to the side as he arched a brow in invitation, his eyes locking with hers for a long beat.

 

Emma bowed her head, dropping eye contact as she felt her face redden, unable to take any more of his intense interest, feeling as though he could see right through her irises into her very soul, exposing her. It was completely unnerving.

 

Instead of fleeing, however, she marched forward, her hands balling into fists at her sides, forcing him to step backwards, his face alight with curiosity. She continued until his back pressed up against a column, and Emma glanced around to see if any guards were nearby, feeling at her leg for the switchblade she kept strapped to her thigh (just in case).

 

“Listen, buddy, I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing here--”

 

He raised his hands in surrender, quickly glancing over his shoulder in a way that increased her suspicion insurmountably, but then he smiled broadly again, his eyes crinkling in amusement and catching her off guard, her breath catching in her throat at the sight. Why did he make her so impossibly off balance?

 

“Apologies, lass, I meant no harm. Forgive my impudence.”

 

He dropped his hands then, slouching casually against the column and hooking a thumb behind his belt buckle as he scanned her over once again, biting his lower lip and drawing her eyes to the movement like a moth to a flame. When she looked up again, she could tell he had seen her do it by the twinkle in his eye, making her blush deepen. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a flask and rather curiously uncorked it with his teeth. Emma’s eyes went straight to his other hand, and she realized it was a fake, although covered in a glove she was easily fooled.

 

“Care for a drink?” he asked, holding the bottle towards her.

 

Emma crossed her arms over her chest again. “Really? How do I know that’s not poison?”

 

“Poison?” He shook his head in indignation. “This here’s the finest rum you’ll find in all the realms.”

 

She rolled her eyes, obviously unimpressed, but he offered the bottle once again, lifting it higher.

 

When she didn’t accept it, he finally relented, muttering, “Suit yourself, highness,” before putting the flask to his lips and drinking, tilting his head back and revealing taut neck muscles and an adam’s apple that bobbed as he swallowed. He really shouldn’t be allowed to reveal so much...man cleavage. Or lick his lips like that after he was done, his tongue pausing at the corner of his mouth.

 

“Ha! So you _do_ know who I am!” she asserted.

 

“You’re a swan princess, isn’t that right?” he gestured towards her frothy white dress, adorned with jewels and feathers.

 

Emma scowled, grabbing the flask from his hand and putting it to her lips, taking a quick taste. He hadn’t died from drinking it, after all. The rum was sweet and spicy, and she raised one eyebrow and shrugged as she realized his claim that it was the finest hadn’t been completely unfounded.

 

He smirked at her, and she felt unable to escape his gaze, but somehow she was no longer sure she wanted to. Taking the flask from her, he set it down on a table to re-cork it and then put it away.

 

“Though I’m starting to think you’ve got a bit of pirate in you, to be certain.”

 

The man looked a bit too pleased with himself with that one, and Emma was about to refute him when he bent low at the waist, swinging his false hand out to the side as he bowed before her.

 

“Killian Jones, at your service milady.” He stood up again. “And you, most alluring creature,  are…?”

 

Somehow he’d captured her hand again, and Emma became startled as she wondered if he was going to kiss it again, the thought making her tremble in excitement.

 

“Emma,” she answered simply, suddenly at a loss for words, her eyelashes fluttering furiously as this Jones fellow stepped into her space once again. He raised his eyebrow at the omission of her last name,  most likely, but if he didn’t already know she was the princess, she wasn’t about to tell him. It was…. _simpler_ that way. Or something. Maybe she liked the idea of being someone else for the night, just a regular person for once.

 

She released the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding when he lowered her hand, though a small pang of disappointment flitted through her.

 

“Well, then, Emma,” her name rolling off his tongue most spectacularly, “this is a ball after all, isn’t it? Will you do me the honor?”

 

Emma started to panic as she realized he was leading her towards the dance floor, their secret soirée about to be not-so-secret anymore. She didn’t know exactly why this alarmed her, only that she dreaded the reaction their dancing together might produce.

 

It was too late, however, as he walked with confidence onto the dance floor holding her hand, swinging her around and holding his prosthetic out to her in offering.

 

“Shall we, darling?”

 

Emma blushed again at the use of such a familiar term, but she nodded her assent, unable to contain the small smile that lifted the corner of her lips. Of course he noticed, a smug smirk on his face as he awaited her.

 

Stepping forward, she slipped her hand into his, placing her other hand on his strong shoulder as the music began playing, the song having just begun. Killian stepped closer, his hand like fire against her low back as he pulled her to him, and Emma turned her head to the side, unable to meet his penetrating gaze.

 

Then they were dancing, his steps light and graceful, the pair of them almost floating across the dance floor in a sea of colorful costumes and artfully styled hair. When he hummed in approval, Emma turned her head to look at him, and they were so close their noses were almost touching. She swallowed thickly, attempting to regain her composure.

 

“So, Mr. Jones is it? What sort of employment do you retain?”

 

He spun her out and she lifted her hand gracefully as required, then he spun her back to him again, never missing a beat.

 

“I’m a sea captain, actually.”

 

Emma studied him carefully, noting that damn twinkle in his eye again, as if he was laughing at her. Deplorable. And somewhat fascinating.

 

“A sea captain? With the royal navy?”

 

He kneeled on the dancefloor, raising his arm so that Emma could take a turn around him.

 

Killian seemed to consider that, rolling his lip out before answering. “No, I’d say mine is a bit more of an... _independent_ sort of venture.”

 

Huh. A bit of a vague answer.

 

He stood again, drawing her in close, and her hand returned to his shoulder. They really did make a competent pair, at least as far as dancing was concerned. Their bodies were highly attuned to one another in a way that felt completely natural, if not borderline erotic.

 

Emma attempted to press further. “So, Captain, are you enjoying your visit to Misthaven? Has this venture been a profitable one?”

 

“Oh yes,” he breathed, without hesitation. “And it seems to be getting more enticing by the minute.”

 

His eyes dropped to her lips, and Emma’s pulse quickened, his meaning entirely too clear. But just who was this dashing rapscallion? She’d certainly never met a ship’s captain like _him_. More importantly, what would he say when he learned she was the princess? Certainly his bold demeanor would falter under the weight of that news.

 

Unconsciously, her eyes flicked towards the head of the room, where her parents would most likely be seated at their throne. What she saw was more alarming than ever, her mother quite obviously having been watching them the entire time, her head leaned in a concerned whisper towards her father. Killian followed her gaze, looking back towards her and then at the king and queen again as he seemed to put two and two together, though he remained calm and cool.

 

They continued dancing, but Emma noticed movement around the room, two guards reaching the dance floor as her parents stood up at attention. _What in the world?_

 

Jones looked a bit flustered for a moment, and she wanted to reassure him, to tell him her parents were just being overprotective as usual, but then he was stepping back and bowing again, this time not hesitating to bring her hand up to his lips and place a lingering kiss there, raising one dark eyebrow in a way that made her think all sorts of naughty things unbecoming of a princess.

 

“Until next time...Emma,” he breathed quietly, winking at her conspiratorially, and she let herself get lost for a moment in the deep blue of his eyes, more captivating than any pair she’d ever come across before.

 

Then he was gone, moving with an athletic sort of agility across the room, one hand on the hilt of his sword, and Emma could do nothing but watch as he darted through the door, the royal guards quick on his heels.

 

She turned back towards her parents, irritation flaring in her chest. Here she’d had a dance with the most interesting man she’d ever met and her parents had chased him away. Walking towards them with fire in her eyes, she stopped when her mother grasped her arm, her father placing a protective hand on her back.

 

“Mother. Father. Was that _really_ necessary?” She tilted her head towards the door. “I’m already bordering on becoming a spinster, you don’t have to _literally_ chase all the available suitors out the door, do you?”

 

“Emma, don’t you know who that was?” Snow shook her head at her daughter.

 

“Captain Jones, I presume. Is that really so repugnant to you? A commoner taking interest in your daughter?” Emma sighed heavily, so tired of all their rules and expectations.

 

Her father shook his head, a slow smile spreading over his face and Emma felt remorse for a moment, remembering his humble beginnings as a shepherd.

 

“No, Emma, but I do find it _repugnant_ when a pirate has his hands all over my daughter.” David scowled at her, obviously perturbed.

 

“A pirate!” Emma laughed in disbelief, before her mouth clamped shut, the slow smile Jones had  had on his face when he said he was a ‘captain’ flickering through her mind.

 

“Not just any pirate, Emma, Captain _Hook_!” her mother exclaimed, her face regretfully free of any humor.

 

Damn. She did not see that one coming. Biting her lip, she let that little tidbit sink in. Here, she had been wary of revealing her true identity, and all the while, he had been doing the exact same thing. What a charlatan!

 

“What did he say to you? Did he mention what he wanted?” her father inquired.

 

Emma blushed as she remembered the way his gaze had traveled to her lips, stopping there, and her fingers came up to touch her mouth against her volition. She was pretty sure she knew exactly what he _wanted_ , but she wasn’t about to tell her parents that.

 

Clearing her throat, she swung her arms at her sides, feigning nonchalance. “No, uh,” she stalled, wishing she could tuck her hair behind her ears in her nervousness, “he was a perfect gentleman.” Well, _gentleman_ may have been a bit of a stretch, but he certainly didn’t seem threatening.

 

Her mother breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, if you see him again, you call the guards immediately! We can’t have pirates roaming the castle grounds.”

 

Emma managed to stifle a snort at that image.

 

“God only knows what he was after,” her father added, his brows stitched together in worry.

 

Emma shrugged, completely uncaring that he may have been there to steal something, and she could only attribute her lack of concern to the fact that he had, in fact, been quite gentlemanly. Besides, she thought cheekily, his pants were too tight to be hiding anything of great value, unless it was something exceedingly small he was concealing. Her brow furrowed in wonder.

 

“Well, then,” she sighed. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one evening. Would it pain you greatly if I retire for the night?” She smiled at her parents, raising her eyebrows in question. It was  a plea she often made, but she was hoping tonight they might actually concede to it.

 

“Alright, daughter, I suppose you’ve done your duties for the night,” her father answered, her mother smiling in that knowing way of hers, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “Goodnight, Emma,” she said softly.

 

Later, as Emma leaned against the balustrade outside on her balcony, her hair blissfully braided behind her back, the cool night air drifting over her skin, she looked out towards the sea surrounding the kingdom, the great expanse of it shimmering in the moonlight.

 

“Captain Hook,” she whispered almost incredulously, her fingers toying with the neckline of her nightgown.

 

Just then, movement caught her eye in the distance, and she saw a ship cutting quickly and quietly through the water. The sails were dark though the ship looked elegant, almost, not at all what she would expect a pirate ship to look like (not that she’d never seen one before). Instinctively, she knew it must be his, and she stood up in rapt attention.

 

She ought to have been alarmed, perhaps even called for the guards, but a rush of excitement sped through her, inexplicably and completely thrilling. It felt a little something like...hope.

 

Wistfully, she watched as his ship sailed away, a deep sense of longing overcoming her, though if it were for the ship or for the man, she couldn’t be certain. All she knew was that the evening felt like a dream - a thing of fairytales - and aside from her royal surroundings, Emma had never thought her life resembled one before.

 

She smiled to herself, a secret smile, wondering if she’d ever see him again and immediately feeling guilt at the thought. But no one had ever smiled like that at her before, or dared get so close, and her mind wandered to the feel of his hand at the small of her back and the way his kiss sent shivers up her arm.

  
If that’s what a pirate was really like, then she considered herself intrigued.


	2. Chapter 2

Killian took another bite of his apple, the flesh crunching pleasantly between his teeth. He was sitting on the large branch of a tree, his back up against the trunk, one leg swinging casually beneath him while the other kept him balanced.

 

Currently, he was keeping watch in the woods, making sure no one discovered his ship where it was anchored - quite cleverly, he thought - down a seldom-visited creek behind the kingdom. And if some unfortunate nobleman were to come his way and have himself relieved of his valuables, then all the better. Normally, he would assign one of his crew to such a rudimentary task, but he found he liked the time to think, to strategize, and to indulge in some much needed solitude.

 

Lately, it was all he could do to keep his mind focused on the task at hand, as it was most inappropriately consumed with thoughts of one very beautiful, very fiery princess - _Emma._ He’d never met anyone like her before, and he had to admit he was quite taken with her. If she had his interest piqued when he thought she was just a fair maiden - and indeed, she was fair, thoughts of her crimson lips and porcelain skin keeping him awake at night - the fact that she was actually the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming had him even more intrigued. What an unusual creature.

 

Not only had she been unafraid of him, she had very nearly threatened him, and it made him hot and bothered just thinking about the way she backed him into the column so authoritatively. He could tell he had made an impression on her, the image of her cheeks coloring prettily when he kissed her hand burned into his memory. As was the feel of her body pressed up against his while they were dancing, her delicate hand in his.

 

Unfortunately, she was a distraction which he did not need, and his fascination with her would very likely only cause him trouble. He pondered that, failing to stop wondering what her lips would feel like beneath his own, until something caught his eye.

 

“Ho now, what’s this?” he said to himself, keeping his voice low as he tossed the apple core over his shoulder, down into the brush. Someone was approaching slowly by horseback, and by the grand looks of their horse and attire, there was a good chance a healthy payout was about to be acquired.

 

Killian sat up, taking out his spyglass to get a better look and holding it up to his eye. The great steed itself was cream-colored, a fine mane brushed to a golden gleam, with braids finely crafted all along its neck. With a sweeping inspection, he noticed the royal crest adorning its blanket, which wasn’t all that surprising given their proximity to the palace. What _was_ surprising, however, was what the hooded figure riding it was doing. Huddled over in a relaxed position, he almost thought the rider had fallen asleep until he noticed they were holding a book, a page turning idly with an elegant, glove-covered hand.

 

Chuckling to himself, he crouched into position, ready to drop down on his victim unawares. _That’s what you get for putting your nose inside a book, poor sod._ Killian could already smell the doubloons. Staying completely still, he timed it carefully so that he wouldn’t give himself away before he’d made his attack. Then he leapt from the tree, knocking the rider to the ground and making the horse whinny loudly as it reared up. They rolled several feet into the brush alongside the lane before stopping.

 

When he’d managed to stand up, he put his hook around their throat, his other arm holding them tight. Quick as a flash, his victim managed to free himself from his grasp, and then they were pushing him quite forcefully up against a tree, the bark biting into his back. He could count on one hand the number of people who had bested him. _Bloody hell, what had he gotten himself into now?_

 

There was a sound of a blade being unsheathed and then there it was, the sharp, cold steel pressed up against his neck and he had no choice but to surrender, his hands raising into the air grievously as he turned his face to see who this fierce creature was.

 

He felt his eyebrows raise sky-high. It was _her_. Emerald eyes dark and wild, he couldn’t believe he had mistaken her for a man, her delicate features more alluring than ever beneath the hooded cloak she wore, once again a flush staining her high cheekbones. Her golden hair was braided in a crown around her head and then fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and she wore leather riding jodhpurs, clinging sinfully tight to her long, lean legs. What was she doing out here wandering the castle grounds unattended?

 

“Hello beautiful. I see you’re dead set on getting my back up against the wall, or a tree as it were.” He gave her his most charming smile.

 

“You!” she exclaimed, her mouth falling open in shock as she turned to look over her shoulder, no doubt checking to make sure there wasn’t another attacker nearby. “What are you doing here!? These are castle grounds!” she bit out, returning her attention to him.

 

“Ah, yes, that’s right. You neglected to tell me that you were indeed a swan princess the other night.”

 

“And _you_ neglected to tell me that you were Captain Hook.”

 

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me?” He grinned at her in the devil-may-care way he reserved for the ladies.

 

Still aggravated, she licked her lips as her eyes scanned over his face, as if she were wondering what to do now. He could tell he was winning her over by the way she blinked rapidly, her long eyelashes fluttering softly against the tops of her cheeks. The pressure of the knife against his neck was beginning to wane.

 

Emma rolled her eyes. “Of course I’ve heard of you. Captain Hook, scourge of the seas, one handed bandit.”

 

He scoffed at that. “Pirate, love.”

 

That made her scowl, her head tilting in annoyance.

 

“Well now, seeing as we’ve made our proper introductions, I don’t suppose you could lower your weapon, darling? While I’m very fond of the way you’re holding me so close, I can’t say that I’d enjoy a neck bleed quite so much.”

 

He looked down to where her hand was fisted in his shirt, her thumb grazing over his chest where the shirt had parted, and he had to bite his lip from laughing when she glanced down and realized how tangled up they were, her eyes widening comically.

 

Taking a half-step back and releasing his shirt, she considered him for a moment. “Alright, Hook, I’m gonna put my dagger away, but don’t do anything stupid or I’ll have you right back up against that tree and next time I won’t be so careful about your pretty neck.”

 

“Fair enough.” He swallowed thickly, watching her eyes dart towards his throat.

 

“I ought to have you arrested,” she said, slowly withdrawing.

 

“Come now, what fun would that be?” He finally lowered his hands. “If you arrest me now, I won’t be able to tell you all my secrets.” Winking at her, he dusted himself off, watching as she did the same, picking a few leaves from her clothing.

 

“I can only imagine what sorts of secrets a pirate keeps,” she said sardonically.

 

Just then, he noticed her book on the ground, and he bent over to pick it up, his eyes scanning over the title. “Come Away With Me,” he read aloud, taking in the cover with a pirate ship embossed into the leather. Smiling triumphantly, he held the book up for her. “I believe the lady has lost her book, can’t have that now, can we? What’s it about, anyway, hmm? Is there a princess in your story, perhaps one who fancies a handsome pirate?” His grin spread wider, especially when she blushed profusely and snatched the book out of his hand, hiding it beneath her arm.

 

Emma glared at him, positively infuriated, and he loved everything about this situation, especially the way she was now shuffling from foot to foot nervously.

 

“Nothing like that at all. It’s actually pretty tame, about a girl who pretends to be a boy and has adventures with pirates. Though the ones in this book are honorable thieves, giving their earnings to the poor.”

 

He felt the judgement in her tone, raising his hackles.

 

“What if I told you my motivations are entirely honorable?” he asserted, hooking his thumb behind his belt buckle and tucking his tongue into his cheek as he took a stance. Something about this woman was already changing him, and it was both alarming and exhilarating. Next thing he knew, he really would be telling her all of his secrets. She was trouble - he had known it from the start.

 

`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`

 

Emma eyed him up and down, naturally skeptical at his attempt to impress her. Why should she care whether his intentions were honorable or not? He was a pirate, and no matter what his motivations, stealing was not the sort of ‘honor’ looked kindly upon by her mother and father, the queen and king. Law and order were necessary to keep a kingdom running smoothly, and there was no room for pirates in that plan.

 

Still, she was curious about his course of action. She remembers with great interest receiving the news of what he had taken from the castle.

 

_“A book!” her father announced, walking gallantly into the morning room where they were taking their breakfast the morning after the ball._

 

_Emma looked up from her plate, suddenly alert. “What?”_

 

_“Captain Hook. He stole a book, that’s what he was after last night.”_

 

_Emma blushed again, remembering just exactly what he was_ after _last night and the many thoughts and feelings she had devoted to him since._

 

_“Really? What sort of book was it? Nothing of too much importance, I hope?” her mother questioned._

 

_David shook his head, uncertain. “Just a book about nautical explorations. Perhaps he was in need of some direction.”_

 

_Emma hummed at that, disbelieving. Wouldn’t it have been easier just to come and ask for it? No, probably not. And not nearly as daring, either._

 

_“Well, I most certainly hope his directions steer him away from our kingdom,” her mother added, the disdain clear in her tone, and Emma sighed again, longing for just the opposite._

 

Now, the man in question was right here in front of her and aside from her initial attempt to restrain him, she found herself completely at a loss for what to do next. Should she tie him to a tree perhaps? She did have some rope on her horse.

 

Regarding him coolly, she raised a sharp eyebrow at him. “Entirely honorable, hmm? Like knocking a woman off her horse in a poor attempt at thievery?”

 

Killian chuckled, scratching behind his ear nervously, and she watched with great satisfaction as twin spots of color rose high on his cheeks.

 

“You’ve got me there, lass,” he admitted as he stepped closer, his blue eyes absolutely smoldering as he swayed towards her. “But once I learned it was you I all but surrendered! And now, here we are, a princess and a pirate alone in the woods together, nothing stopping us from enjoying one another’s company, perhaps engaging in a little adventure of our own, hmm?” He used his hook to gently push her hair over her shoulder and Emma gasped softly, her eyes glued to the movement.

 

He can’t-- How does he-- _Why does he keep doing that?_

 

If he can dish it, he better damn well be prepared to take it as well. She stared into his captivating eyes, now rimmed in black kohl that accentuated the blue even further.

 

“What? Not swan princess anymore?” she cooed, cocking her head at him as she watched his eyes scan over her face appreciatively.

 

“Just Swan, perhaps. It suits you.” He smiled again as he tilted his head at her, a soft thing that lit up his eyes and made him look younger. She was starting to realize that pirates didn’t necessarily come in the form of a peg leg and an eye patch over tobacco-stained teeth. Sometimes, they were so handsome and charming that you nearly begged them to rid you of your possessions, consequences be damned.

 

Emma took a step closer, raising her chin up and taking satisfaction in the way he sucked in a breath at her proximity.

 

“Better be careful, Hook. I hear swans bite.” She punctuated her statement with a finger to his chest.

 

Hook smiled, his eyes going to her lips again and she licked them unconsciously. He leaned forward, getting so close she could smell the rum and spice on his hot breath.

 

“That’s just because they haven’t been treated properly,” he said in a low voice that made her insides twist, and it felt like an invitation and a promise. Emma sighed wearily. Sometimes you want things that aren’t good for you, she of all people had been disciplined enough to know that.

 

She looked up into his eyes. “What’re you still doing here, Hook? And why did you take that book from the castle library?”

 

He considered her for a moment, rubbing at his bottom lip with his thumb, before he finally relented, taking a small step back.

 

“Ah, secrets then. Alright.” He paused before speaking again. “I needed the book because it was written with squid ink, and if I can somehow lift it from the pages, I will use it to enact my revenge on the Dark One.”

 

Emma laughed, completely incredulous. “The Dark One? As in Rumpelstiltskin? You really are mad.”

 

He smiled again, this time without humor. “The bloody crocodile killed my love - my Milah - right in front of my eyes, took her heart out and crushed it. Then he cut off my hand and left me like this--” he said with venom, raising his hook to show her, his jaw clenching. “I won’t back down, won’t be satisfied until he’s paid the ultimate price for his treachery.”

 

Hook’s eyes had grown impossibly dark, his brows knit together, scowling. Emma could see that his hatred ran deep, consuming him, as did his vengeance. But instead of being put off by it, she found herself burning with jealousy at the mention of justice for his lost love. It showed a standard of devotion she found so rarely in men, and it pained her greatly that his devotion was to another.

 

“I see…” she said slowly, comprehending. “And how do you suppose to lift ink straight off of a book page? Hmm? I don’t suppose you have fairy magic.”

 

His face softened as he returned to himself, and he raised one eyebrow in question.

 

“Funny you should say fairy magic. Perhaps you can help me, hmm?”

 

“With what?” she asked tiredly, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“The reason I’m still here. I was hoping to find a book of fairy incantations. Perhaps you’ve seen one in the castle library? I’d be more than willing to pay for it...in whatever way you deem appropriate.” He bit his lip, most unfairly, gently fingering a strand of her hair and placing it delicately over her shoulder as if to appease her.

 

The nerve of him. Just what sort of woman did he think she was?

 

“What say you, love? It would be our own little secret. A grand adventure fit for a princess, just like in your story.” He gestured to her book.

 

Once again his eyes flicked to her mouth and she wondered in alarm if he was going to kiss her, his face so close to hers she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. She felt heat of her own rising up her neck and almost choking her, the last tendrils of her resolve weakening in his presence. She wanted to reach up and kiss him almost as much as she wanted to run her fingers through his thick hair, the loose strands hanging in stylish disarray over his forehead.

 

It was too much, _he_ was too much.

 

Taking a quick step backwards, she drew her arms more tightly around herself, squaring her shoulders. She would not be taken in so easily.

 

Still, his motivations for wanting the book did seem pure, although she could hardly recommend vengeance as a means of justice. It was not the way her parents had taught her.

 

“If I find this book for you, then you’ll leave?” she asked, breathless as she awaited his answer, and she could only feign ignorance as to why.

 

“Aye,” he answered nodding, his eyes searching hers, making her blink and look away.

 

“Alright then, I’ll help you find the book. But only if it will get you to go. If my parents find out you’re still here, I can assure you they’ll not be nearly as merciful.”

 

“Ah, so you do care.” He grinned that stupid grin of his, the dimple showing in his cheek as he bounced on his toes like a preening child.

 

Emma huffed in frustration. “That’s not what I--”

 

“Oh, you didn’t have to. I could see it all over your face.”

 

Clenching her hand, she turned away from him, reaching for the reins of her horse, wishing desperately for her blush to fade as she put her book inside her side satchel.

 

Gripping the saddle and sticking her toe into the stirrup, she was about to hoist herself up when she heard him behind her and then his hand and hook were on her waist and any chance she had at easing her blush now was completely and utterly spoilt.

 

“Allow me,” he said, lifting her effortlessly into her saddle as she swung her leg over the top of her horse. His hand paused just a beat longer than was necessary on her thigh and her eyes focused on it until he lifted it, smirking at her smugly. She really ought to have had him arrested.

 

“Thank you,” she said reluctantly, tightening her hands on the reins.

 

“Oh believe me, the pleasure was all mine.” Then he winked at her, the bastard.

 

She paused, suddenly thoughtful. “How shall I find you, you know, when I’ve found the book?”

 

He shook his head. “Not to worry love, you won’t have to find me, I’ll find you. Although, it seems like we’re awfully good at running into each other anyway.” Hook smirked again, taking that casual stance of his with his thumb behind his belt buckle. Emma took in the whole picture, from the intricate brocade of his vest to the high collar of his black leather coat. He oozed confidence in a way she found both commendable and deplorable.

 

Curving her lips in a barely-there smile, she hummed in response.

 

“Until next time,” she said, mirroring the way he had left her at the ball. She watched in awe as his cocky mask fell away momentarily and he gave her a genuine smile, something passing between them that was secret indeed.

 

“Until next time,” he answered, bowing ever so slightly.

  
Clicking her tongue, she bid her horse to turn, making her way back down the lane. She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder one last time though, and was pleased with what she saw. Hook was still standing there watching her ride away, a soft smile still gracing his lips, his eyes dancing merrily, even rimmed in kohl. It was all she could do to look away, and that alarmed her more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think so far? Comments?


	3. Chapter 3

Emma’s mind was in a state of disarray and it was starting to make her despondent. It had been five days since she’d last seen Hook, and now she was beginning to wonder (yet again) if he was ever coming back. She’d managed to find the book of fairy incantations fairly easily, and only had to procure a book of similar size and appearance to replace it with, lest anyone should take notice that it was missing from the library and get suspicious. Since then -  and because he hadn’t given her any way whatsoever to contact him - she’d just been waiting for him to turn up somewhere, with half a mind to think he would be lurking just around the corner of every corridor she turned down, only to be disappointed.

 

At first she told herself that she was being helpful, kind even, and Emma prided herself on these personal qualities which she believed held virtue. Hook’s intentions were noble after all, weren’t they? He was avenging the death of his first love, a thought which made her weak in the knees because she found the whole idea quite romantic. Plus, no one could argue that a demon such as the Dark One didn’t deserve to pay the consequences for his murderous ways.

 

It wasn’t until she was in a state meeting with her parents, gathered at the round table with Granny and all the Dwarves and the like, that she had to acknowledge her willingness to help the pirate was more than that. Her mother had been calling her name over and over to no avail, so engrossed was she in thoughts of a wicked grin and blue eyes that flashed with mischief, and it wasn’t until her Auntie Red finally whacked her on the arm with a knowing grin that she was  broken from her trance. Emma was completely mortified, not only because the whole table was staring at her with concern, but also because she was coming to the dawning realization that she had a problem - a tall, dark and ‘too-handsome for his own good’ one.

 

She had a crush on Captain Hook.

 

It was preposterous really, that she, Princess Emma, future ruler of Misthaven, should give more than a passing thought to such a...a...ruffian such as himself. Yet, there he was in her mind during her art lesson, a tall ship with billowing sails somehow finding its way onto her canvas. And then further, every time she saw the book she had pilfered for him sitting on her bedside table, next to the one she had dropped in the woods - the one that she had lied to him through her teeth about, because it was _exactly_ as romantic in nature as he had assumed it was - thoughts of him would flood her mind and steal her breath. She wondered where he was and what he was doing, and if perhaps he was thinking of her at this very moment, too.

 

In frustration, she had finally saddled her horse and gone into the woods to look for him, but other than the unsettling (and likely paranoid) premonition that someone was watching her, she hadn’t seen hide nor hare of him anywhere.

 

It put her in quite the mood: she was so anxious, irritated, and hopelessly distracted from her regular duties, that she excused herself from dinner early claiming a headache and marched herself up to her room, shutting the door behind her and nearly collapsing against it, her hand still gripping the door handle tightly. Leaning her head back with a thunk as it hit the solid oak, she pulled the pins from her bun and shook her hair free, tugging at the laces of her corset and opening it, desperate for air. It was in this tousled state that she heard a noise at her terrace doors and was immediately on guard, her heart racing wildly.

 

“Don’t stop on my account, darling, I was very much enjoying the show,” came the cocky drawl that had come to haunt her every waking dream.

 

“Hook!” She glanced down at her heaving breasts, and could feel the heat rising high in her cheeks as she resisted the urge to tie herself up again, lest he think she was affected by him. The man himself was leaning casually against the open door, hand on his belt buckle and eyes dark and hooded as he bit his lower lip, watching her.

 

“Swan,” he replied evenly, not in the least bit concerned about hiding the fact that he had been ogling her.

 

“How did you get in here?” she demanded, brushing past him to inspect her terrace, looking for signs of a rope or a ladder.

 

He only shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head towards the vines climbing the castle walls. “You’d be surprised how well I can climb, given that I’ve only one hand.” He gestured towards her with his hook.

 

“Huh.” Emma looked down at his hook and once again felt her admiration for this man grow even stronger, despite her better judgement.

 

Scanning his eyes over her and causing searing heat to spread from her toes all the way up her neck, Hook smiled at her appreciatively.

 

“You look-”

 

“Inappropriately dressed for company,” she stated in a clipped tone.

 

“Not at all. I was going to say positively ravishing.” His eyes flicked from her chest up to her face, which she knew without having to touch was absolutely burning beneath his gaze. Emma could feel her breath coming in uneven pants. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, jutting her hip out to one side.

 

“It wasn’t a question, Hook. Obviously I wasn’t expecting you.”

 

“Well, I did say I would find you, did I not?” A self-satisfied smirk spread his lips, and she’d never wanted to slap someone quite so vehemently. “Were you able to procure the book that I’m after?” He took a few halting steps towards her.

 

Emma took her time answering, lifting her chin in defiance as she watched him slide towards her. “Of course I found it.”

 

That obviously pleased him, and his admiration for her was written all over his face. “Of course you did, clever lass. I knew you would.”

 

“You did?” she asked as her brow stitched together, astonished as she was by his confidence in her.

 

He took two more halting steps towards her until she got a faint whiff of his leather and spice, his piercing blue eyes studying her face carefully.

 

“Aye. I’ve yet to see you fail, Swan. Such courage and competence isn’t often found coupled with the beauty and grace you possess. It’s a sight to behold, indeed,” he said in a hushed tone, the sincerity in his voice hard to deny, as was the earnest expression in his eyes that made her heart flare in her chest.

 

Emma swallowed thickly, her brain getting foggy as she ducked her head bashfully. No one had ever given her such an eloquent compliment before, though many had tried and failed to impress her with their lamentable attempts at flattery.

 

“Well, uh, good. Let me just-” she gestured towards the bedside table where the book was lying, awkwardly turning and walking away from him and his unfettered regard. She didn’t hear any movement behind her, but when she had picked the book up and turned back around, he was right there waiting and she almost slammed right into his chest, causing her eyes to widen in surprise. “Oh!”

 

She offered the book to him, and he took it slowly, his fingertips brushing hers in a move that she could only assume was not an accident, a soft smile gracing his lips as his eyes crinkled at the corners. _Bastard. He knew._

 

Emma watched in fascination as he used his hook to turn the pages, somehow managing not to scratch or otherwise damage the book, a studious look on his face.

 

“Excellent.”

 

She could only smile stiffly in response.

 

`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`

 

Killian had the book in his hands, the book that would help him defeat the Dark One, the sole purpose of his existence for more years than he dared count, and somehow it paled in comparison to the beautiful maiden before him.

 

_What was it about her that drove him to such distraction?_ he wondered as he closed the book and tucked it inside his satchel, the site of her pulse fluttering wildly in her neck making him weak with need to place his lips against her pale throat and feel it for himself.

 

Any other woman, and he wouldn’t have hesitated to do just that, laying the charm on thickly enough and possessing such a skillful mouth that she’d be begging him for more. But with Emma - his beautiful Swan - he felt the restraint of his youth returning, when he’d believed in good form and virtue and doing what was “right.” The fact that she was a princess and a woman he respected made that all the more meaningful.

 

Oh, she was affected by him, of that he was certain now more than ever, the way she flushed in his presence in ungovernable attraction fanning the flames of his desire for her. Still, she was skittish and uncertain, and he couldn’t find it in himself to push her towards a relationship that would likely end in scandal or at the very least shame-filled regret. He was loathe to admit it, but he cared too deeply for her and her well-being to tempt the fates.

 

Regardless of all sane and reasonable thought, however, he was drawn to her irrevocably, and now, finding himself in her boudoir with her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders and a delectable amount of cleavage on display, her corset open loosely beneath the delicate mounds, it was all he could do to stop himself from moving closer to her, his desire for her all-consuming. It would take much stronger willpower than he could ever claim to possess to stop himself from flirting with her, if nothing more.

 

“Well, then. I suppose gratitude is in order, now, hmm?”

 

Emma eyed him carefully with those intelligent green eyes of hers, her lips parting softly, before shaking her head. It was as if she were fighting a war within herself, and he could only imagine it had everything to do with him being a pirate.

 

“I suppose it is,” she finally answered, that rebellious glint in her eye making a reappearance.

 

“Have you given any thought to what you want? Don’t stand on ceremony, love, feel free to ask for what your heart desires.” Daring to edge even closer to her, he rolled his tongue slowly across his bottom lip, and the air sparked with tension as her gaze followed the movement.

 

She didn’t answer him, so he continued, taking a half-step further until the tip of his boot touched the hem of her dress. “Jewels perhaps? I am a pirate after all.”

 

Emma shook her head. “I’m a princess, what need have I for jewels?”

 

“Too right, Swan, too right. Perhaps it’s ancient treasure then? A golden compass or a dagger than once belonged to the siren Ceto? I know you have a fondness for sharp blades.” He grinned at her, tilting his head.

 

She smiled softly, and it was another one of those shared moments where it felt like they really understood one another. Try as he might to resist, he was desperate to know if she felt even a sliver of the same regard that he felt for her, the ache in his chest becoming impossible to ignore.

 

He stepped even closer, watching as she trembled slightly but stood her ground, her gaze darting from his eyes to his mouth and back up again.

 

“Or could it be something more simple that you want?” He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “A kiss, perhaps?”

 

Killian lowered his head just a fraction, and they swayed into one another’s space, intoxicated on the mere proximity of the other person.

 

“Please,” Emma scoffed half-heartedly. “You couldn’t handle it.”

 

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,” he teased, and watched as her eyes danced over his face, hesitating.

 

She pulled back, breaking the spell. “How will you do it? Use the incantation to acquire the squid ink, I mean?”

 

Killian shook his head slightly, lost as he had been in the moment. “Oh well, I suppose I’ll have to ask another favor, trade treasure or wares for help from a willing lass. I hear there’s a fairy with less-than-reputable behavior who can be relied upon for such things.”

 

Emma’s eyes flared with anger, her nostrils flaring, and he was both pleased and alarmed at the same time. If he didn’t know any better, he might think she was jealous. She crossed her arms over her chest again.

 

“I see,” she bit out. “I suppose you have a woman at every port just waiting to do you favors, hmm, Captain?”

 

Killian couldn’t help but smile, which only served to increase her ire, and she sidestepped him, stomping away, except there was no where to go really, and she had to turn around and face him when she reached the other side of the room. Naturally, he followed after her.

 

“And what’s it to you if I do? I thought you wanted me gone, that’s why you gave me the book. Isn’t that right?”

 

That got to her, her mouth dropping open in contempt as she glared at him.

 

“That’s right, but that doesn’t mean that I want you to think of me like you do one of your other...wenches or whatever you call them. The kind who do things for you for- for- _favors_!” She waved her hands at him in exasperation.

 

It was hard not to chuckle at her obvious display of jealousy, but at the same time it gave him the taste of something he hadn’t known in a very long time - hope.

 

Slowly, so as not to spook her, he stepped closer to her again, invading her space until he could smell her soft, sweet aroma. With a gentle hand, he cupped her face, lifting her chin to look at him so she wouldn’t miss a syllable of what he was about to say.

 

“I could _never_ think of you like I do any other woman, in this realm or anywhere. In fact, I’ve hardly been able to spare a thought to another woman since I met you.”

 

He watched as his words sank in, her temper diminishing as the moment stretched and something tremulous formed between them. Her eyes flicked to his lips again and that was all the warning he got.

 

“Good,” she said, and then she grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and pulled him to her, kissing him with so much force, she nearly knocked him off his feet.

 

His hand slid back and tangled in her hair, and he held on for dear life as she kissed him with passion and natural skill, her lips parting for him as he nipped at her lower lip, her tongue coming out to taste his. He felt her fingers digging into the hair at the nape of his neck and he curled his hooked arm around her, drawing her close. Her kiss was like heaven and she a goddess divine, all of his thoughts and feelings swirling around in his mind, making his head spin. She was a bloody marvel, a revelation of the deepest kind.

 

Dipping and turning, they swayed together on the spot, each giving as good as they got and then some, until they finally pulled back for air, both of them panting heavily. The look on her face was exactly what he suspected he was reflecting back at her - utterly and completely thunderstruck.

 

Just then, they heard footsteps outside the door, and a lady’s singsong voice called, “Emma! Emma, how are you feeling?”

 

The princess snapped back into action, and she quickly released her grip on his jacket, pushing him gently and saying in a low voice, “Go! I’ve got this.”

 

His heart still beating wildly, he drew her hand up to his lips and kissed it, whispering, “Until next time, love,” and adding a wink for good measure. She smiled, looking so wrecked and beautiful, his heart nearly cracked in two.

 

Away from her was the last place that he wanted to be right now, but he wouldn’t dare risk her reputation, and he was helpless to obey her command. Fleeing to the terrace, he swung himself over the balustrade and onto a window ledge, grasping at the gnarled vines that climbed the castle walls. As silently as possible, he retreated until he got two feet on the ground. Under the cover of darkness, he evaded the royal guards and ran quickly away from the castle until he reached the surrounding woods, where he stopped and allowed himself one last look over his shoulder.

 

There she was, his beautiful princess, gazing off into the starlight on the edge of her balcony, hair floating like a golden halo around her. Smiling, he ran off into the dark wood, a new spring in his step carrying him forward.

 

`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`

 

When Emma awoke the next morning, she yawned, stretching idly as she replayed the events of the evening before. She kissed him - and oh, what a kiss it was, her fingers going to her lips unconsciously as she marveled at the memory.

 

It still felt like a dream though, or a vision, so fleeting had the moment been between them before her chambermaid had come to check on her, breaking them apart. After taking some refreshment and assuring her maid that she was fine, Emma had gone back out to the terrace to make sure Hook was gone, even though a not-so-small part of her wished that perhaps he was still there somehow, waiting for her. She gazed out into the darkness but saw no movement, and resigned herself to look up at the stars, a new wish upon her heart.

 

Rising from her bed, she opened the terrace door, letting in the cool morning air. Something on the edge of the balcony caught her attention and she walked over and bent down to retrieve it.

 

“Meet me at our tree tonight, if you can manage it. I’ll be waiting for you. Yours truly, K.J.” she read aloud, smiling to herself. Sitting atop the note was a red rose, and she put it to her nose, inhaling deeply.

 

Emma looked over the top of the balustrade, but she didn’t see Hook - or _Killian_ \- anywhere. At least this time she knew when “next time” would be, and she began to make her plan of escape for the evening, a lightness in her step that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.


	4. Chapter 4

The day seemed to pass at a snail’s pace, all of Emma’s normal duties and activities just a hindrance to the meeting she was anxiously anticipating. Over the course of the day, it became apparent that she needed to do a better job of keeping her budding romance a secret, or else the game would be over before it had even begun.

 

Her mother in particular seemed to take notice, Snow’s eyes studying her daughter’s face with curiosity when they met in the archery field for target practice. Emma was loading up on arrows, looking them over carefully to make sure the feathers were straight, a soft smile playing at her lips as she unknowingly reflected outwardly the bubbly sense of happiness she felt inside.

 

“You look...different. Did Rebecca do something new with your hair?” her mother asked, referring to her lady’s maid, as she scrutinized Emma’s facial expression and countenance.

 

“No.” Emma shook her head as if she hadn’t a clue, consciously forcing a neutral expression on her face while she begged her cheeks not to flush. “Maybe it’s the sunshine and fresh air.” She shrugged her shoulders, looking up towards the summer sun.

 

“Must be right.” Her mother smiled thoughtfully, admiring her only daughter while Emma fought the urge not to fidget under her gaze. “Whatever it is, you look lovely - positively glowing.”

 

Emma ducked her head, hoping to hide her blush. Was she that obvious? God, she had it even worse than she thought.

 

“Thank you, mother. You look lovely as well, is that a new cape?” _Change the subject, change the subject._

 

“Yes, actually. It was a gift from Cinderella, a courier brought it yesterday.” Snow smiled cheerfully, fingering her cape, and they both took their positions, arming their bows. It presented the perfect opportunity to cease talking.

 

Emma loosed her arrow first, with Snow following straight after.

 

“Nice shot.” Her mother turned towards her, nodding in praise, but continued talking again, much to Emma’s dismay. “You know, August is coming to visit next week. He’s such a sweet boy.”

 

Emma rolled her eyes, sighing loudly. “Uh huh.”

 

“He’s still single, you know. Gepetto tells me that every girl he meets fails to compare to you.” Snow raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling.

 

“Mother,” she reproached. “We’ve been friends since we were babies. August is like a brother to me!” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

 

Her mother shrugged and smiled, arming her bow with another arrow. “Someday your prince will come, Emma. I’m sure of it.”

 

_And what if he’s a pirate instead?_ Emma thought to herself, biting her lip, untrusting of herself not to say something that might give her secret away, but luckily the conversation shifted to preparations for her father’s birthday celebration and she was relieved to get the subject of conversation away from her love life (or lack thereof as far as her mother knew).

 

After dinner, Emma faked a stretch and a yawn, holding her hand over her mouth. “I’m a bit tired today, must have been all that sun! I think I’m going to go up and read for a bit before retiring.”

 

“Alright, darling,” her mother answered, just the hint of suspicion coloring her features before she hugged her. “We’ll see you in the morning!” She bid farewell to her father as well before sneaking away to her room (at least momentarily) to change into riding clothes - sinfully tight black leather pants with an airy white blouse and a crimson cape - and check her appearance one last time in the mirror, a smile now her constant (and brightest) accessory.  

 

It wasn’t like Emma to lie, after all, she was practically a model child except for a few moments of strong-willed challenge that she’d thrown at her parents in her teenage years. What reason would they have to suspect she was doing anything other than what she said she was? Likewise, her chambermaid hardly batted an eye when she told her she could manage the rest of the evening on her own, her independence well known around the kingdom.

 

Getting out of the castle without being seen, on the other hand, was a bit more of a challenge, but Emma knew all the secret passageways and the darkest corridors, and pretty soon she was sneaking her way into the stables to saddle up her horse.

 

Galloping away from the castle, her heart raced and soared, pounding to the same rapid beat as her horse’s hooves. The sound mellowed into a rhythmic cadence and Emma’s mind wandered.

 

There was a small twinge of guilt as she made her way into the woods, knowing that she had lied to her parents, but it was miniscule compared to the growing sense of excitement she felt knowing she’d see Hook soon. She was a grown woman after all, she could make her own decisions.

 

The one question she didn’t have an answer to, however, was where this path would lead her to, but she chose willfully to ignore that fact. All she knew was that she was following her heart, and her heart was leading her towards a man who may not have a noble profession but who possessed a heart that was true, she was sure of it.

 

Her eyes scanned the woods, trying to remember where it was that he had tackled her from her horse, the thought making her smirk now, remembering how she had bested him. What a different meeting they would hopefully be having today, she reflected, admiring the way the summer sun was sending streaks of golden beams through the trees, mottling the forest floor.

 

She slowed to a trot when she reached the approximate spot, then dismounted her horse, walking the rest of the way.

 

“Hello, beautiful,” came his voice, surprising her and causing her heart to stir and a smile to spread her lips. She turned to see him leaning against their tree - the one she had pinned him against - thumb hooked into his belt, his eyes soft and different looking...affectionate, maybe.  He looked as handsome as ever, maybe even more so, his vest a lovely red brocade and his hair tousled artfully, the perfect amount of scruff covering his cut jaw as if it were freshly manicured.

 

“Hello, yourself.” Emma walked over until she was right in front of him, aching for his touch but embarrassed to claim what she wanted, his eyes on her the whole time, making her nervous.

 

“Not ‘handsome?’” he teased, and Emma rolled her eyes, placing one hand on her hip, though she couldn’t help but smile. He was absolutely impossible, and she was beginning to love him for it.

 

Slowly, watching for her reaction, he lifted away from the tree and closed the distance between them, the ions in the air charging all around them as his smolder completely enveloped her and she was unable to look away. The desire she saw in his eyes was absolutely mesmerizing.

 

Placing his hooked arm around her waist, he drew her close in one smooth move, his hand cupping the back of her head as he bent down to kiss her - a searing, heat-inducing kiss that made Emma glad for his support, because she was suddenly weak in the knees. She tucked her hands inside his coat, curving them around his sides until she reached his lower back, holding tightly to him.

 

Oh, but the man could kiss, his hot tongue stroking her to heights of new pleasure, making her head swim as his lips moved insistently upon hers. Emma never wanted him to stop, but they were both panting so hard when he finally did, she knew he had no choice but to separate for air.

 

There was a short moment during which they shared an intense gaze, a gaze heavy with question and wonder and heat, making her suck in a sharp breath. But then it was over, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at her, nudging her nose softly with his own as his thumb stroked across her cheek tenderly.

 

“I missed you,” he whispered into the space between them, his breath hot on her cheek. Emma ducked her head bashfully, biting her lower lip as her stomach did a flip.

 

“And I, you,” she told him, looking back into his eyes again, for it was the truth. “Did you wait long?”

 

“I would have waited all night,” he said in a low voice, smiling with just a hint of shyness, and Emma was overcome by him - his warm presence, his open displays of affection, the way he made her _feel._ Closing her eyes and reaching up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his again, swept away in the moment, uncaring about anything else in the entire world.

 

She felt more than heard him moan softly, his chest rumbling against hers, causing a shiver to run down her spine. Just what, exactly, did he have planned for this evening?

 

Pulling back, she smiled softly at him, feeling bashful again but also curious as she fingered at his lapels and he held her close.

 

“So, then, Hook, what did you have in mind for our little rendezvous?” She attempted to raise her eyebrow at him suggestively, but not _too_ suggestively.

 

“You can call me Killian, you know,” he told her, canting his head to the side. “And I’ve got a little surprise planned for you, as a matter of fact.”

 

Emma smiled, humming in response. “OK, _Killian_ , we should probably go then before anyone finds us here.”

 

“Aye, right you are. Mind if we take your horse?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

This time when he lifted her into the saddle, she savored the feel of his hand and hook at her waist, craving more, wondering if he was as desperate for her touch as she was for his.

 

Climbing up in front of her, she wrapped her arms around his lean waist, holding on tight as he took the reins and commanded the horse forward.

 

They rode for a short while off the lane and into the wood, and Emma was more curious than ever where he was taking her. Suddenly, the trees cleared and she saw something that made her mouth drop open in surprise - it was a ship, masts reaching towards the sky like trees, blue and white paint crisp and clean. It was anchored in the creek, and Emma was amazed by his gall to hide it here - so close to her kingdom and yet completely obscured.

 

“Is this your ship?”

 

Killian dismounted the horse and helped her down, smiling proudly.

 

“Aye, she’s a beauty, isn’t she? Behold, the Jolly Roger!” Emma chuckled to herself at the look on his face, so full of joyful regard she half expected him to introduce her to the ship.

 

“It’s a lovely ship, Killian. I can’t believe you’ve had it hidden here all this time, though, right under our noses. Good thing my father didn’t find out, because I’m pretty sure he’d be more than a little bit displeased.”

 

Killian smiled, scratching behind his ear in a nervous tick she found rather charming, giving her a slightly apologetic look even though he still looked a bit proud of himself.

 

“Come, Swan, everything we need is right in front of us.” He gestured towards the Jolly.

 

Emma smirked, raising a cool eyebrow. “You know you can call me Emma, right?”

 

Killian grinned, nodding. “I know, but I like Swan. It’s suits you, like I said.”

 

Emma grinned, following him towards the gangplank. She kind of liked having a nickname, it felt...special. Everyone always referred to her so formally - “Your Highness,” “Princess,” and the like. She was starting to feel like there hadn’t been enough fun in her life, especially when Killian turned around and grinned at her.

 

“Is anyone here?” Emma asked, suddenly thoughtful. If one of his crewmembers were to tell someone at the castle she were here…

 

“No, it’s just you and me, a pirate and a princess, ready for a little adventure, aye?” He turned around, winking at her and waggling his ridiculous eyebrows. “I’ve sent the boys to the tavern for some entertainment, they won’t come back ‘round until morning, the bilge rats.”

 

Emma laughed softly, relieved that they were alone. On the other hand, _they were alone..._ Killian was pulling the gangplank up and Emma felt nervous, unsure what his expectations were.

 

“So, we’re...going sailing?”

 

“Aye, unless you’d rather not?” He looked at her skeptically.

 

“Oh, of course! I just...didn’t know…”

 

Killian stepped over to her, placing his hand on her forearm in a soothing gesture. “Relax, Swan. I promise we’ll have a nice time, yeah? Just let me go raise the anchor. Have a look around!”

 

Emma was glad that it was summertime and the sun was still providing light even at this hour, although by the time Killian had them under way, dusk was falling, the sky taking on an ethereal glow as the clouds lit up in golden tones of orange and pink. The boat cut slowly through the creek and she could tell Killian had to be careful to steer around the bends, his eyebrow stitched together in concentration. Suddenly, they broke out onto the sea, the trees disappearing, and Emma was awestruck at the silver waves and inky sky all around them.

 

“Want to steer for a bit?” he asked, gesturing for her to come to the helm.

 

Emma stood at the wheel and placed her hands on the smooth wood, her face lighting up in a smile when she felt the control being shifted into her hands. Wind blew into her face and she got gooseflesh, especially when she felt Killian’s nose in her hair, his body hovering behind hers. She could hardly concentrate, the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention, waiting to see what he’d do next. She held her breath, and then he was pressing up against her back, all the way from knee to shoulder and she breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Gently, he put his hand on her hip, whispering in her ear, his breath warm. “You’ve got it. How does it feel?”

 

“It feels big!” she answered without thinking, then immediately blushed beet red when she realized what she’d said, feeling Killian’s silent laughter against her back.

 

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he said, and Emma laughed quietly at that, glad that he wasn’t being more blatant.

 

He pointed away from the castle, towards an island in the distance. “If we go that way, we’re more likely to stay out of sight. Try and keep her close to the shoreline.”

 

Emma did as instructed, just enjoying his closeness and warmth as the sun sunk below the horizon. By the time they had circled behind the island, night had fallen, and the stars lit up the sky, the moon beaming brightly. Killian raised the mainsail, slowing the ship, and then he dropped anchor. Emma helped when she could, watching with great interest the care and expertise he used with his ship.

 

They met on the middle of the deck, Killian taking her hand and bowing low. “Will you do me the honor?” he asked, and Emma was confused for a moment until she realized what he was asking.

 

“But of course,” she answered smiling, and took her position, one hand resting comfortably on his shoulder. Then he began to move about the deck, their bodies instantly in tune with one another, a soft smile on his face as he focused on nothing else but her.

 

She couldn’t decide if it was harder to keep eye contact or to look away, because she wanted to do both at the same time, so intense was his gaze, but so captivating.

 

When they had danced for awhile, Killian humming a melodic tune beneath his breath, he dipped her low, bringing her back up slowly until she was pressed up against him, their hearts beating as one.

 

`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`

 

Killian was absolutely enchanted, and he couldn’t remember feeling this way in a very, very long time. He didn’t think he’d ever let go of his first love, his Milah, until he met _her_. Now everything was beginning to change, the darkness taking on a rosey colored hue.

 

“I have something I want to tell you,” Emma said looking into his eyes when they had stopped dancing, though he was still holding her close. His heart sped up suddenly, wondering at the weighty expression on her face.

 

“What’s that, Swan?”

 

“About the squid ink. I might be able to help you.”

 

He cocked his head at her, intrigued. “Is that right?” She _really_ didn’t want him trading favors with another lass, did she?

 

She pulled away, wringing her hands. “I have...magic.” She tucked her hands in her back pockets, raising her eyes to meet his.

 

“Magic?” Well, this was unexpected...

 

She shrugged her shoulders. “I haven’t really been trained or anything yet, but I was born with light magic as fate predicted, being the product of true love and all.”

 

Killian had to smile at that, completely entranced by her and the way she had said, “true love.” He couldn’t even claim to be that surprised, because everything his swan princess did seemed to be magical.

 

“Alright then, what do you need me to do?”

 

“Bring me the book.” She looked nervous, but he was game.

 

He got the book of nautical explorations from his cabin, and handed it to Emma, placing his lantern on the ground.

 

“Alright, I might...need your help. Could you stand behind me and help me focus my energy?”

 

“Of course, love, anything you need,” he answered, coming around to stand behind her, placing his hand on her arm and peering over her shoulder.

 

Emma opened the book and held it with one hand, and the other hand she hovered above it, closing her eyes in concentration. Nothing happened.

 

Her eyes snapped open and she glanced at him over her shoulder. “Maybe if you just...kiss me. Do you mind?”

 

Killian grinned smugly, hardly opposed to that suggestion. “As you wish, darling.”

 

Once she had reassumed her position with her eyes closed, Killian considered his options, his eyes trailing over her face and shoulders. Then he gently pulled her hair away from her neck and pressed his lips to the soft skin just below her ear. He meant to use just his lips, but she was so delectable this way, he couldn’t help but dart his tongue out to taste her, sunshine and honey delighting his senses. As soon as his tongue made contact, he could feel something happening, energy pulsing through her, causing him to raise his head in shock and awe.

 

A black cloud of ink rose from the pages, Emma orchestrating the movement as letters turned into liquid. It hovered above the book until she snapped her fingers, and then a small bottle appeared. He watched as the ink disappeared into the bottle, the cork sealing it shut. Then Emma’s eyes opened and she plucked the bottle out of midair, turning to offer it to him proudly. He took it from her, examining it before tucking it inside his coat pocket.

 

“That was amazing! Bloody brilliant!” He liked the way her face lit up under his praise, could fairly well become addicted to it.

 

She shrugged her shoulders, feigning nonchalance. “Well, you helped, after all. I find that strong emotions help the magic come alive.”

 

Strong emotions, eh? His grin became even more smug, if that were possible. “Well, my kisses have been known to have that effect on women.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

 

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head at him.

 

“So, you have the ink now. I guess that means you can enact your revenge?” she asked, squinting at him.

 

Killian paused, his grin faltering as he smoothed his palm over his beard. “Aye. Well, that’s half of it anyway. The bloody crocodile won’t be an easy target. Once I have him stunned with the ink, I’ll either need to send him to another realm through a portal, which I currently have no way of doing, or to actually kill him…” he trailed off, not sure he wanted her to know the rest.

 

“What?” she asked, her face filled with concern.

 

He sighed, knowing he’d have to tell her one way or another. “I’d have to stab him with the

Dark One’s dagger.”

 

“And what happens then?”

 

Killian pawed at the back of his neck, smiling humorlessly. “Well, I become the Dark One, of course. That’s how the bloody thing works.”

 

Emma’s jaw set in a hard line, a shadow passing over her face. “I see. So, that’s it then? There’s no real future for you other than revenge and darkness?” Her arms crossed over her chest in a fierce stance of walled-off emotion he was beginning to become quite familiar with.

 

Bloody hell. This is not how he intended this evening to go.

 

He stepped closer to her, putting one hand on her shoulder. His eyes scanned over her face, waiting until he had her full attention. He wasn’t sure she was ready to hear what he was about to say, but he felt compelled to say it anyway.

 

“The truth is, Emma, I never thought about my future, never thought I’d be able to let go of my revenge, that is...until I met you.”

 

She blinked over and over again, comprehending his meaning, her face lighting up in awe. Then she flung herself into his arms and he was helpless to hold her close, nestling his chin atop her fair head as she tucked it into his neck.

  
  


“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, and his heart nearly broke in two. All this time, thinking and feeling as though he hadn’t meant a damn to anyone, and now this. A princess, the most beautiful and fierce creature he had ever met, clinging to him as if she never wanted to let him go. He felt as if he could fly.

 

Holding her close, he cradled the back of her head, gently massaging her scalp. He wanted desperately to tell her what she wanted to hear, yet still there was something holding him back. He’d been on the path of revenge for so long, and now he was so close, he wasn’t sure he could let it go. What sort of life did he have to offer her anyway? When she was brought up to be royalty, clothed in fine linens and protected behind stone walls.

 

Sighing, he pulled back, looking into her eyes, even more surprised to see tears welling up in them. He didn’t deserve her, he knew that now more than ever.

 

“It’s getting late, I should get you back to the castle.” He glanced at the sky, knowing it was nearing on midnight by the position of the moon.

 

Emma only nodded, wiping a tear away, smiling glumly. Killian hated what he was doing to her, hated that he couldn’t offer her more, when she deserved so much.

 

The sail back to the creek was mostly silent, Emma standing beside him at the helm as the shimmering sea passed beneath them, the stars twinkling above. Finding her horse where they left him, he joined her on the ride back to the castle, not wanting to send her back alone, and she seemed grateful for his company.

 

When they arrived at the edge of the woods across from her balcony, he dismounted, helping her down and gesturing towards the vines she would use to climb the castle wall.

 

“Will you be alright, love? I’ll stay below, ready to catch you if you fall.”

 

Emma raised her eyes to lock with his. “I think it’s too late for that.”

 

His stomach did a quick turn and he sucked in a sharp breath. Watching this magical creature as she focused her gaze on his lips, he waited in hopeful anticipation as she slowly rose up on her tippy toes and kissed him, once again stealing his breath away.

 

He kissed her as if it were the last time - because for all he knew, it could be - pouring every last ounce of emotion he felt for her into it. He could feel something new in her kiss - something more, and it made his heart ache, coming alive again for the first time in centuries. When she pulled back, he felt completely awestruck, his fingers going to his lips as if he could capture her kiss there and hold onto it forever (would that he could).

 

“Until next time, Killian,” she whispered with a soft smile.

 

“Until next time, Swan,” he answered, the words dying on his lips as he clenched his jaw, uncertainty weighing heavy on his heart.


	5. Chapter 5

Emma arched her back, revealing a graceful white neck reminiscent of her nickname, her hair spilling all around her shoulders onto the bed like a golden halo.

 

“So exquisite, Swan,” Killian breathed between searing a pathway of kisses down her smooth, long neck, his mouth delving into the hollow of her throat before finding its way in between her breasts as she sighed softly, her body writhing beneath his.

 

He could feel her fingers in his hair, digging into his scalp, electrifying him, amplifying the already present ache in his belly, both pleasant and tormenting.

 

“Have you any idea how much I want you?” he said in a low voice, listening to her answering sharp intake of breath, which quickly turned into a cry as his lips closed over her nipple, tightly wrapped in lace. Her knees spread wider and she clutched at his head, holding him to her as he sucked her sensitive flesh into a tight bud and he ground his hips against her shamelessly, desperate to feel her burning heat, to be enveloped by it.

 

“Killian…” she moaned softly, and hearing his given name fall from her lips was completely intoxicating, driving him mad. He’d never wanted anyone so badly, the desire spreading over his entire body like wildfire, causing him to tremble.

 

Killian awoke with a start, alone in his cabin, sweaty and hard... _extremely_ hard. What a vision! Sighing, he rolled over on his bed, pressing his knees together, seeking relief.

 

“Emma,” he exhaled, a deep pang of longing overcoming him as he put his hand on his heart.

 

For the last day and night he’d tried and failed to put her from his mind, his intention to focus on his plan of revenge at constant odds with thoughts of blonde hair, green eyes, and a dimpled smile that made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a very long time. The memory of her lips, soft and seeking against his own, was enough to put him in a such a state that his first mate had to clear his throat loudly to get his attention on multiple occasions.

 

He knew he should let her go, knew it was foolish to think that they could ever be more to one another than secret lovers, their moments together stolen away under the cover of darkness, unbeknownst to the rest of her kingdom. If King David were to find out about their tryst...well, he could only imagine the consequences, as he himself already felt a protectiveness over the princess that he would wager paled in comparison to what her father felt.

 

Still, his feelings for her were more than just a passing fancy, more than a crush. When Emma said she had already fallen for him...oh, the riotous torture her words provoked, making his heart beat most erratically for he was already in love with her as well, it was certain. He knew it as sure as he knew the sun would rise in the morning and set in the evening that she had claimed his heart, irretrievably so. Anything and everything there was to know about her, he wanted to learn, could hardly stand _not_ knowing.

 

Rolling onto his back once more, he pulled at tufts of his hair in agitation, running his palm over his scruffy face. He had to see her, he could deny himself no longer. Perhaps if he explained his point of view to her plainly, she would see the wisdom in it, however painful. She could go on being a princess, find herself a knight in shining armor or what may be, and he could skewer himself a crocodile and end the feud that had haunted him for ages. The way things were meant to be...weren’t they?

 

Rising slowly, he resigned himself to the task at hand, though excitement trilled through him at the prospect of seeing his Swan again. First, to find a task that would occupy the crew in town, then to ready himself a pigeon to deliver his message.

 

Killian was just rolling his note into a tight cylinder, ready to send it with the pigeon to the castle, when he heard a noise below deck.

 

“What the devil…?” He had sent all his men into town, there shouldn’t be anyone still skulking about the ship. Yet, there it was again, the noise of something moving below, setting his nerves aflame. If it was one of his crew, they were about to encounter the wrath of Captain Hook.

 

Putting the pigeon back into the cage, he climbed the ladder down into his cabin with a burr in his boot, turning in anger to face whoever dare challenge his orders. Ready to bark at them, he spun around and was confronted with something (or someone) who stole his breath away, leaving him completely speechless.

 

There, with her feet up on his desk crossed at the ankles, lounging most casually and self-assuredly in his captain’s chair, was the princess, her mouth quirked up in a smirk so sinfully tempting he immediately wanted to kiss it from her lips.

 

“Good day, Captain!” she greeted him, her smirk growing even more smug by the moment as she took in the flabbergasted expression on his face, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

 

“Swan!” he finally managed, warmth spreading through him. Here he was going to send a bird, when she’d simply appeared out of nowhere as if he’d been able to conjure her with his thoughts. “How did you…?” he waved about the room.

 

Emma shrugged, dropping her feet from the desk. “Well, I figured one good turn deserves another. You did break into my bedroom, after all.”

 

He had to chuckle at that, giving her credit. He knew she had a little bit of pirate in her, the tough lass, she must have snuck on the ship when he wasn’t looking.

 

She stood, and he was once again enraptured by her - by the way her riding pants clung to her long legs, and her lovely bosoms were pushed up over the top of her corset, her shirt looking as if she were taking a page from his book and foregoing a few extra buttons - but most especially by the soft expression on her face and the fire in her eyes that he wanted so desperately to touch, uncaring if he might get burned.

 

So when she came to him, pressing herself up against him fully and wrapping her arms around his neck, he was helpless to resist her, helpless but to lower his head to hers and taste the smile on her lips.

 

She rose up to meet him and her tongue sought his, seeking and tasting, tempting and teasing. The fire between them spread even more quickly and more intensely than it had in his dream, and he was right back where he had started this morning, throbbing with need. If the dream version of his Swan was enchanting, the reality of her presence was dizzying, making his brain go fuzzy. God, he loved her, this bloody beautiful siren.

 

Breaking the kiss, he attempted to pull back, but her lips didn’t stop, and she pressed hot kisses against his jaw before working her way down his neck, making him groan.

 

“Emma…” he tried futilely to halt her advances, but he could hardly think straight as she nosed her way into his chest hair, pressing delicate, open mouthed kisses there, her leg hooking over his hip, making him gulp as he caught it, holding her firm ass to him with his hooked arm.

 

“Missed you,” she murmured in between kisses, her hands wandering over his body, before curving around the back of his head and digging her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her lips found his again, and the sweet taste of her flooded his senses. It was bloody torture of the most spectacular kind.

 

Unhooking her leg, he felt her nudging him backwards, her hands fisted in his shirt. He didn’t realize what she was doing until the backs of his knees hit the edge of his bunk, and then she was pushing him with authority down to sit on it, her body taking the space between his legs. He heard her toeing her boots off, kicking them aside with a thunk, but it barely registered above the pleasure of her kiss.

 

“Mmm,” he moaned as she swiped her tongue against his, and he held her close, pulling her to him as he kissed her with abandon, drunk on the feel of her - her soft body, her passionate embrace, the fervor of her desire - everything that made her Emma.

 

“You’re making it awfully hard for me to be a gentleman, Swan,” he warned her when they pulled apart, his fingers gently caressing her face, now flushed and dewy-looking.

 

“I didn’t come here to see a gentleman, I came here for a pirate,” was her firm answer, setting his blood aflame before she tugged on his shirt and claimed his lips again, leaving no room for argument.

 

She climbed up onto his lap, placing a knee on either side of his hips and pressing her center down against him, rocking her hips softly and gasping at the feel of him, so hard and so ready for her. All the blood rushed from his brain at the contact.

 

His mind was at war with his body, and it seemed to be losing the fight, as he tried yet failed once again to focus on what he was going to tell her, to convince her that this wasn’t right, when all he really wanted to do was precisely what he had done in his dream this morning. Now she was here in the flesh and if it was a pirate she wanted...

 

Digging his fingers into her silky hair, he tilted her head back, sucking and laving a trail of wet kisses down her neck, entranced by the way her breath caught, her pulse beating wildly against his tongue. He slowed, kissing a delicate pathway across the top of her breasts, as she murmured and moaned, making him weak with need.

 

Pulling her shirt back with his hook, he revealed one perfect pink nipple covered in lace, looking up into her eyes and watching her pupils darken as he drew into into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the tip. He didn’t know if she’d ever done anything like this before - which secretly thrilled him - as he felt her hands go to his head, holding him to her, her hips grinding down again, making him groan.

 

“Gods, Emma,” he said hoarsely, “do you have any idea how much I want you?”

 

He heard her shuddering exhale as his hand found her other breast, massaging it gently, his hips rocking up to meet hers now in a rhythm he wasn’t sure he could - or ever wanted - to stop. His beautiful princess, she was even more amazing than he could have ever imagined.

 

Switching to the other breast, he pulled her shirt down there too, using his hand to uncover it fully and then drawing it up into a puckered peak with his mouth - so perfect, so tantalizing. Her hands went to her corset to loosen the laces and unbutton her shirt, and then she shrugged her shirt off over her shoulders, taking her corset with it. Next came her lacy underthing, which she expertly unfastened behind her back, and then she was naked from the waist up and Killian was completely mesmerized. When he looked up into her eyes, brushing her hair over her shoulder reverently, she was raw with passion and fire, looking so bloody gorgeous, a beautiful smile curving her lips.

 

In his hesitation, she rolled off of him, coming to lay down on the bed and giving him an even more tantalizing view. She quirked one elegant finger at him, arching an eyebrow in invitation. The beseeching look she gave him would have tempted even the strongest of men, and he knew if he gave himself to her now, he’d be lost forever. She would own him body, heart and soul. Killian sighed, considering his options, though he would never claim to be strong when it came to resisting temptation.

 

`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`

 

Emma was normally very level headed, self-disciplined even. It was why her parents allowed her so much freedom, because they knew they could trust her implicitly. Yet, something about Hook inspired a fire in her belly and a longing in her heart that she found impossible to ignore.

 

She was still unhappy about the prospect of losing him, nervous that his thirst for vengeance would carry him away from her and never bring him back. But despite all that, her regard for him continued to grow and in his absence especially she felt her heart grow fonder and her desire for him deepen. The pictures he conjured in her mind...well, he was incredibly sexy, something she’d never thought about any man before.

Tossing and turning the whole night through, images of dark hair, eyes bluer than the sea and lips that were red and delicious filled her mind, as did the way he looked at her with awe and reverence, as if she were made of stardust. She could very well become addicted to that look, if she hadn’t very well already.

 

“Killian…” she finally sighed, rolling onto her back and trailing her fingers over her body. It was not the same though, and she ached for his touch. Whether their future was certain or not, she wanted him and now she knew exactly where to find him. A plan of action began to form in her mind.

 

Emma had spent her whole life following rules and order, now it was time to find out where this path would lead her. So, she snuck away from the castle once again, shirking her responsibilities and bordering on downright subordination if her parents were to find out. It pained her to lie and sneak about, but her heart called her and where it bid she must follow. At present, it called her away to the forest, at the bank of a creek, where a hidden pirate ship concealed a very handsome, very dashing captain.

 

She had spied on him from the bushes, watching in pride and fascination as he ordered his crew around. Her heart sped up when she took in his more casual attire. Without his heavy leather coat, she could see his strong shoulders framed nicely by the gauzy black shirt and black leather vest that he wore, biting her lip when he turned and she saw all that glorious dark chest hair revealed by his distaste for buttons.

 

Hoping for a moment alone with him so she could draw him away, she breathed a sigh of relief when he ordered the crew into town for supplies, watching and waiting until every last one of them was off the ship. When Killian busied himself with a pigeon (was he was sending someone a message?) she snuck aboard the ship, creeping quietly down into his cabin on light feet.

 

Now she was spread out on his bunk, licking her lips as she watched him unbutton his vest single-handedly, barely resisting the urge to jump in and help him do it more quickly. She wanted to see him - _all_ of him, and she was anxious for him to see her too.

 

“I suppose one good turn deserves another, right Swan?” Killian asked with a devilish smirk as he dropped his vest to the floor, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. He was beautiful, every inch of him, his muscled shoulders and arms framing a perfectly flat torso, dark hair trailing all the way down his belly and disappearing beneath his waistband (Oh, how she longed to follow that trail.).

 

Emma rose up on her knees as he climbed onto the bed slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as she put her hands at his waist, drawing him close. He looked uncertain for a moment, so she kissed him, letting her hand find its way in between his legs and stroking over his hardened length, curiosity getting the better of her. He groaned, jerking away slightly, then he was lowering her back down onto the pillow, his hand smoothing over her body, stopping to grope her breast, then continuing down to the top of her pants, his tongue delving deeply into her mouth all the while, making her head swim at all the sensations.

 

She needed him to touch her or she was going to scream, and thankfully he seemed to be on the same page as his hand deftly untied the laces of her pants, then his fingers were edging their way inside them, and she arched her hips up to meet his touch. He ghosted his fingertips over her mound and she gasped, twitching, feeling him smile as he kissed her.

 

Emma kissed him harder, clutching at the back of his head, anxious for him to continue. She’d pleasured herself on occasion - she was grown woman after all who had _needs_ now and then - but she’d never done this with someone else before. She wanted it to be him, wanted Killian to be her first, had never felt so damn ready in her entire life, duty and ceremony be damned.

 

“Oh…” The feel of his fingers finding her sensitive flesh, slick and swollen was like nothing she’d ever experienced before, her eyelids fluttering closed as she lost focus on their kiss, her breath coming in shaky gasps. When she opened them, he was watching her intently, looking absolutely mad with desire, his hair sticking up in wild tufts and his lips and cheeks pleasantly flushed.

 

Locking eyes with him, she let him have this, let him watch as she experienced the effects of his talented fingers, her moans growing louder as he experimented with stroking and swirling, the pleasure coiling tight and unbearable low in her groin.

 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his mouth closing over hers and capturing her cries as the pressure suddenly released, sending waves of pleasure like a shockwave across her entire body, taking her existence to an entirely new level, opening her eyes. So this was what it felt like. Emma swallowed thickly as he slowed and finally pulled back, his gaze full of concern.

 

“Are you alright, my love?”

 

She nodded, hardly able to process thought let alone speak. Smoothing her hand over his cheek, she looked him the eyes, whispering, “I want you - all of you” and watching in wonder as his resolve broke, his hand going to her pants and tugging them down while she helped him.

 

Once she was fully naked, he looked her over as she trembled under the heat of his gaze, his palm smoothing over her body, searing a hot path down her thigh. She reached for his pants and began to untie them, heard with satisfaction how his breath hitched as she dug her fingers inside his waistband. It was like unwrapping a present, and she marveled at the feel of his soft skin, her hands gliding over his arse before grabbing it hard, loving the solid feel of him. Killian kicked his pants to the ground and then they were completely revealed to one another, nothing separating them any longer. She reached down between them, hand circling his shaft in amazement, stroking him gently and biting her lip as she marveled at how silky and smooth he was.

 

“Like that, do you?” He smirked at her, and she bit her lip, a blush staining her cheeks as she nodded at him in response.

 

When she was done exploring, he positioned himself between her thighs, fingertips ghosting over her cheek, his eyes searching hers, suddenly earnest as she anxiously waited for whatever it was he was about to say.

 

“Emma...” he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily. “Emma, I love you, darling,” he said when he had opened them again, and now she was the one filled with shock and awe, completely overcome, her heart blossoming in her chest.

 

“I love you, too,” she answered him and then he was filling her, his fingers interlacing with hers and squeezing them tight as he watched her intently. She cried out and he stilled, still careful and uncertain, but she reached up to kiss him again, reassuring him, letting him know she was alright. Then he began to slide in and out, slowly at first, not going too deeply she was certain because he was _very_ well equipped. There was that care and attention she was becoming accustomed to, even when it came to _baser_ activities.

 

He held her like a precious thing, kissing her slowly now and with so much passion she was able to disregard the stretch and the burn and give in to the glorious feel of being joined with him.

 

“More,” she moaned against his lips. “More...please,” she all but begged, her hand going to his arse again, pulling him into her farther, deeper, making Killian groan.

 

“Ah, it’s the pirate you want then,” he growled into her ear, shifting his hips and quickening his pace, driving her wild as the pleasure multiplied and she had to gasp for air, the feel of him stretching her fully the most sinfully erotic torture she’d ever experienced.

 

When he let go of her hand and reached down between them, his thumb finding her delicate nub and rubbing gently, Emma thought she might explode right then and there. But then he slowed the pace of his hips and began to make circles with his thumb and she never wanted it to end.

 

“Killian…” she moaned. He was proving himself just as talented as she imagined he’d be, and they were perfect together - a heady combination of dark and light, soft and strong, novice and experienced.

 

Her body began to thrum, and she could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, desperate to take him with her as she met him thrust for thrust. He broke their kiss and closed his hot mouth over her nipple and she could hold back no longer, crying out loudly as she peaked and fell, shattering into a million little pieces.

 

Killian’s thrusts became wild and fast as he worked her through it and then he came with a growl, driving into her deeply as she watched every detail on his face, completely enthralled. He slowed and she immediately felt sad that it was over, his smooth, slow strokes making her want to do it all over again, though she wasn’t sure that they could.

 

When he looked into her eyes, however, she was blown away at everything she found there, her hands coming to his neck and massaging the back of his head. She smiled softly at him, filled with a new awareness. Her heart ached. She’d never loved someone so much in her entire life, it was maddening. He smiled back in that cocky way of his, as if he could read her mind.

 

He kissed her again, pressing his lips to hers firmly. Then he pulled away and went to his wash basin, pouring water on a cloth and bringing it to her so she could clean herself up. She watched him as he moved, admiring his body as the muscles shifted and flexed. He was awfully considerate for a pirate, she thought to herself cheekily.

 

Emma sat up on the edge of the bed, and Killian came to stand between her thighs, the same way she had done previously. She put her arms around his neck, drawing him close as he stroked his hand and hook up and down her sides.

 

“I saw the plans on your desk. You are planning to go soon, aren’t you?” she asked, unable to hide the petulance in her voice.

 

Killian sighed, scratching behind his ear. “Aye. Though you’re making it awfully difficult for me to leave.” He cocked his head, studying her.

 

“I forbid it,” she stated plainly, looking up into his eyes. “You’re in my kingdom and therefore under my rule, pirate.”

 

“Is that right?” Killian chuckled at that. “I think you’re forgetting one very important fact, darling. Pirates don’t follow orders.”

 

Emma hummed, feeling annoyed. Her eyes flicked down to his lower member at half-mast, and she reached down and stroked it, watching in satisfaction as his eyes fluttered closed, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he began to harden beneath her touch.

 

“What if I command you to make love to me again?” she asked, smirking and raising her eyebrow.

 

Killian’s eyes opened and she could see the heat in them, dark and dangerous.

 

“Well, then.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling in admiration. “I’d be helpless but to obey, Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last official chapter, my darlings, but an epilogue is in the works! Hope you all enjoy.

Killian was completely under the princess’ spell. Shaking under the magic of her touch, he swallowed thickly as Emma continued to stroke and massage him, his body hers for the taking and his heart just as willing. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dark and hooded as she watched him, her own breath coming in quick little pants as she tucked her tongue into the side of her cheek.

 

Using his hook to stabilize himself against the bed, he had his hand wrapped around her chin, his thumb gently rubbing across her lower lip as she stared up at him, her eyes shining with desire, the fire almost consuming them now.

 

Emma captured his thumb with her lips, surprising him, sucking it slowly inside her mouth as she swirled her tongue around the tip. A groan, deep and guttural, rose from his throat and he had to close his eyes for a moment, so intense was his pleasure.

 

“Mmm,” she hummed, enjoying herself.

 

If he thought she would end there, however, he was mistaken, because she pulled him closer and then she was rubbing him against her lush slickness, her legs spread, and he would be lucky not to make an arse of himself now, so caught up was he in his rapture. Heat shot up his spine, lightning quick and twice as powerful, matching the growing ache in his groin.

 

“Bloody hell,” he moaned softly, his eyes opening to look at her, catching her answering smile. Perhaps she would kill him before the Dark One even got his chance, because he wasn’t so sure he could handle this after all. Taking his thumb from her mouth, he leaned down to kiss her, wanting nothing more than to wipe that naughty grin off her face and wanting desperately to give her even more to grin about.

 

She fell back onto the bed, and he leaned over her, swiping his tongue against hers, sucking her lip into his mouth. Oh, what he wouldn’t do for his left hand right now, his right simply insufficient in his need to touch her all over, her body so enticing he couldn’t decide where to bestow his attentions next as he smoothed his palm over the curve of her hip.

 

As he sucked and nibbled at that spot below her ear that made her squirm, he rubbed his hardened length against her core, eliciting breathy little moans from her that ratcheted his pulse up a notch. His hand groped at her perfect breast, thumb flicking across her nipple. He wanted to taste her all over, so delectable was her soft skin, her feminine scent divine to his senses. His body cried out to be joined with her, and by the furrow in her brow he could tell she felt it too. Sliding over her, she was so ready to accept him all she had to do was spread her thighs a little and then he was plunging inside of her, so hot and tight she made his head spin and his stomach clench. The sound of her pleasure alone as he filled her was almost enough to push him to the breaking point.

 

Kissing her harder, he drove into her with abandon, loving the way she welcomed him, her hands clutching him tightly, pulling his hips to hers, possessive and demanding. She was perfect - a beautiful seductress, temptation personified, a bloody marvel - and he loved her; loved her so much he thought his heart just might burst.

 

It was that thought which finally slowed him, just as they were both about to topple over that precipice once again, and he pulled back, her lips chasing his, caressing her face tenderly as he gazed deep into her eyes.

 

Rotating his hips in a circular fashion, he slid into her with purpose - slower but deeper - watching her face intently as her mouth fell open on a gasp, her head tilting back slightly as she gripped at his back. He continued slowly and steadily like that, watching her rise and fall like the tide, her mouth falling open with each thrust, their bodies in perfect, harmonious synchrony.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked shakily, not exactly complaining it seemed, but curious nonetheless, her fingers gently stroking the hair away from his forehead, now covered in a sheen of sweat.

 

He swallowed thickly, hardly able to form the words, panting for air. “Making love to you, princess, as you wished.”

 

Emma’s eyes widened slightly, the emerald color deeper now, shining even in the low light of the cabin. He could get lost in those eyes, catalogue every tiny fleck and detail, plunge in so deeply he might never resurface. _Fuck._

 

She lifted her head, wanting to kiss him, but he wasn’t sure he could breathe anymore, wasn’t sure of anything, his entire existence suddenly in question. Leaning down, he nuzzled her nose with his instead, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against hers. He listened to them both struggle for air, her breath hot and moist against his face.

 

A long moan escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, and he knew that she was close, knew that her pleasure was as much emotional as it was physical, making it greater and possibly even sweeter than any sort of passion that a man and a woman were capable of experiencing together.

 

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, and he felt tightness in his chest at hearing those words once again.

 

“And I you,” he answered her, the tightness releasing, their combined happiness superseding.

 

Capturing her lips with his, he finally kissed her, letting the taste of her flood his senses and overwhelm him, taking over. She had him - _all of him_ \- and he kept nothing from her, held nothing back.

 

Her pleasure was his greatest priority, and so his thumb found its way to their joining and he pushed softly against her throbbing nub, feeling her twitch against him, burning and writhing as he circled it gently. They were both in that heavenly place that transcends all time and space, every nerve in their bodies singing, every movement taking them higher and higher until they both cried out suddenly, a rush sweeping over them as the dam finally broke, waves and waves of pleasure flowing through them both in unison, carrying them along. It was like no love he had ever known, more pure and more extraordinary to him, truer somehow.

 

Killian slowed, nearly collapsing on top of her, weak from exertion. She had commanded him to make love to her and that’s exactly what he had done, the difference from his usual roll in the hay startling by comparison. It was the first time since Milah, so long ago now he could barely remember what that felt like, it was only a vague memory. Now here with Emma, her kiss so intoxicating he didn’t know if he could ever live without it again, he was completely astounded, hollowing out his cheeks and blowing out a long breath as he felt his eyebrows raise. How in the world would he ever find the strength to leave her?

 

Rolling off of Emma, he pulled her to him, studying her as they both tried to calm their racing hearts. Her face was flushed and beautiful, lips swollen and eyes soft and unguarded. She smiled at him, the dimple showing in her cheek, before clearing her throat lightly.

 

“So then, Captain, are you enjoying your visit to Misthaven? Has this venture been a profitable one?” she asked him cheekily, quirking an eyebrow at him.

 

Killian grinned, remembering their conversation at the ball the first time they had met.

 

“Aye,” he nodded. “There are many treasures in these parts that I’ve been lucky enough to acquire. Gold, for example.” He stroked his fingers through her fine hair, making her smile as he cupped her cheek.

 

“The rarest emeralds I’ve ever seen,” he continued, looking deeply into her eyes as his thumb stroked over her cheek.

 

“Rubies...” he kissed her lips softly, her hand coming up to cover his. “Red as a rose.”

 

Emma bit her lower lip, sucking it into her mouth, and she was more precious to him in that moment than any treasure, real or imagined.

 

Brushing her hair away from her face, he pressed kisses along her exposed jaw, reveling in the sound of her soft gasps. Her eyelids were closed when he pulled away, opening softly with a dreamy expression in her eyes, her lashes dark and lush against her pale skin.

 

“Then there’s the ivory...which is perhaps my favorite. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” His eyes searched hers, enjoying the love he could see reflecting back at him, in awe that an amazing creature such as this could ever love him, let alone invite him into her bed.

 

“Aye,” he repeated, biting his lip briefly in contemplation. “It’s been a profitable venture indeed.” He looked deeply into her eyes, conveying his full meaning, then nuzzled her nose with his.

 

Emma smiled serenely, stroking her fingertips over his eyebrows, admiring him, making him feel almost bashful. Heat flooded his cheeks as her delicate hands moved down to his chest, her fingers exploring the whorls of hair that continued down his body.

 

“Good,” she said simply, meeting his gaze, and for a moment all was right in the world, as it should be.

 

They stayed that way for a long while, just enjoying one another, stealing kisses, hands softly caressing each other as time passed free of cares. Nothing mattered in the time present more than the love they shared and the feelings they inspired in one another.

 

Eventually though, Emma’s brow furrowed, and he could tell she had something she wanted to say to him.

 

“Killian…” she started hesitantly, as if she were reluctant to break the mood. “I’ve been thinking.”

 

Uh oh. What’s this about, now, hmm?

 

“Aye?” He stroked his hand through her hair until he reached the end of the strands, rubbing them between his fingertips, enjoying the silky feel of it.

 

“I want to go with you.”

 

His eyes snapped up to hers.

 

“ _With_ me?”

 

“To defeat the Dark One.” She looked at him square in the face with determination in her eyes.

 

Killian got up on his elbow. “Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous.” He shook his head at her.

 

Emma straightened up as well, propping herself up on her elbow so they were at eye level again.

 

“Dangerous? What do you have to defend yourself? One hand? I have magic!” She threw the words in his face angrily with a wave of her hand, then shame flooded her face and she looked apologetic, chewing on her lip.

 

Killian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He got up from the bed, pacing the room, his hand clutching at the back of his neck as he hooked up his pants from the floor, sticking one foot inside of a leg irritably. He could feel his jaw clenching as he turned to face her.

 

“I’m not having this discussion with you, Swan. I’ve already lost one woman I loved to the Dark One, I’m not bloody well letting you anywhere near him!”

 

That threw her, and he could see the effect of his words on her as her eyebrows stitched together and she gulped, though it couldn’t possibly weigh as heavily on her heart as it did on his own, the words like fire in his lungs, making it hard to breathe. The thought of losing Emma like he had Milah - watching in horror as her heart was wrenched from her body, helpless to do anything as that monster crushed it to dust - it was too much. _No_. No, he would never let that happen!

 

Emma got up from the bed, throwing her shirt on over her head and approaching him like a wounded animal as he tried in vain to tie his laces, nearly impossible in the state he had gotten himself worked up in. She put her hands over his own and his hook, halting his movements. Then she searched his eyes.

 

“You don’t have to do this alone, Killian. Let me help you,” she implored, her voice strong and even.

 

Killian sighed deeply, running his hand through his hair in agitation, pulling at the roots.

 

_Alone._ He’d been alone for more years than he could count, could hardly remember what it was to be a part of something, to matter to someone other than himself and his motley crew. He looked at Emma, at this beautiful princess so strong and brave, and he honestly didn’t know what to make of it all. The thought of losing her wasn’t much less terrifying than the thought of what her love meant, of the challenges they could face just trying to be together.

 

Curling his arm around her waist, he pulled her to him, and she put her head on his chest, clutching him tightly as the fight left him and he needed just to hold her close, to try and make her understand when he could hardly comprehend it all himself. Before he could find the words, she spoke again.

 

“That fear you have,” she whispered. “That fear of losing me? I feel that way too, you realize.”

 

She looked up at him, her hand covering his heart as he considered her words, swallowing thickly as the full force of them washed over him. How could she care so much for him so soon? ‘Twould be a complete mystery to him if he didn’t feel exactly the same way about her. Consequently, if he wanted to prove that he loved and respected her, that he saw her as his equal - and he most certainly did - he had no choice but to consider her feelings on the matter.

 

“I just want to keep you safe, Swan,” he emphasized, looking into her eyes.

 

“You want to protect me? Well, fine. I want to protect you as well,” she retorted, arching her brow.

 

Stubborn lass. She was bloody impossible, and he loved her for it.

 

“Also, sorry about the one hand thing,” she shrugged her shoulders, looking a bit sheepish.

 

Sighing, he looked her over, realizing she had won the argument by using his own words against him. Not the first time, he supposed, and probably wouldn’t be the last.

 

“Fine,” he finally relented, rolling his eyes, and her answering smile was radiant. “You can come.”

 

Emma reached up and kissed him soundly, pulling away with a triumphant look on her face.

 

“When do we leave?” She practically clapped her hands.

 

“At sundown. The boys are in town gathering supplies for the journey.”

 

Emma broke away, rummaging around the room for her underthings, and he stood motionless, momentarily allowing himself the pleasure of watching her dress, desire still burning brightly just beneath the surface of his skin like an thirst that would never be satisfied.

 

When she was done, she handed him his shirt, reaching down and tying the laces of his pants for him while he lifted the shirt over his head. The places she was touching him were most definitely not inspiring him to get dressed again, and he raised his eyebrow at her, rolling his tongue across his lip when she looked up at him, a smirk on her lips as if she knew _exactly_ what she was doing to him. Then she reached down and picked up his vest, handing it to him so he could put it on.

 

“Are you sure about this, Emma? I reckon your parents won’t exactly approve of you sailing off with a ship full of pirates.”

 

Her face grew serious, and he could see her swallow as she considered the thought, but then she met his gaze confidently without an ounce of doubt, her shoulders squared.

 

Nodding softly, she said, “I’m sure. I just need to go back to the palace and gather my things. Where shall I meet you?”

 

Killian stroked at his chin, wondering how the men would handle their new mistress, especially when they learned she’s the princess. “I’ll meet you at the tree, take you to the ship meself. Proper introductions will need to be made.” Her looked her up and down. “Bring your dagger.” Then he winked at her, though he wasn’t entirely kidding.

 

Emma nodded again, then she came to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body close. The thought of having her in his bed every night...his blood grew heated just imagining it as he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and she shared a sultry smile with him.

 

Then she kissed him, and he swayed into her, barely able to keep himself from taking the kiss further yet again as the feel of her slick tongue sent a rush of want through him. She pulled back and this time he was chasing _her_ lips, making her hum amusedly.

 

“No more next times,” she said, making him grin, before he realized that phrase could be interpreted more than one way, and his smile faltered. He hid it from her though, forcing himself to smile again, reassuring her.

 

“Aye. No more ‘next times.’” He rubbed her back. “I’ll see you soon, my love. Let me show you out.”

 

“No, it’s alright,” she assured him, pulling away. “You stay here, I’ll go.”

 

Emma went to the ladder and began to climb up, but a sudden pang of loss struck him and he hooked her pants, halting her. Then he turned her to him and grabbed her, pulling her down from the ladder and kissing her passionately, her legs tangling around his as he slowly lowered her to the ground. Once again, he kissed her as if it could be the last time, because he wasn’t altogether convinced that it wasn’t.

 

“Mmm. I’d better go before I let you change my mind.”

 

He raised an eyebrow, cocking his head at her. “So, you’re saying I could then?”

 

She huffed a laugh, squeezing his arm lightly. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

 

He gave her one last peck and then let her go, watching the whole time as she climbed up the ladder, a long sigh leaving his lips as soon as she was gone.

 

Well, now he’d gone and blustered it all up, hadn’t he? Stealing away into the night with the princess was not exactly part of his plan, and it would certainly come with extra challenges, as her parents were sure to want his head on a platter. Not to mention the added distraction of keeping her safe from harm.

 

Turning around, he attempted to walk around his desk and ended up crashing right into it, his good sense apparently having gone right out the window in its entirety. Something crashed to the floor, and he bent down to pick it up. It was small decorative box that he kept on his desk, the contents spilled all over the floor because the lid had fallen off.

 

Reaching for the items, he picked up the first piece of paper and was confronted with a ghost, the lovely face of Milah looking back at him in a drawing he’d had made of her once while in port. Her fine features and long hair belied the sadness he saw in her eyes, whether real or imagined he couldn’t be certain, but it struck him just the same.

 

He would lose her, the picture seemed to say - lose Emma. The Dark One would stop at nothing to steal his happiness from him as soon as he learnt of it, of that he had no doubt. The gnawing sense of apprehension and fear wrapped around his heart like an icy claw, and he stayed there, motionless, his jaw clenching as he struggled with his demons.

 

Standing up, he slammed the picture down on the desk in frustration, anger and self-loathing coursing through his veins. He had lost everyone - his parents, his brother, Milah - it was impossible to think that he could have a happy ending, even if Emma was more than willing to offer him one. He was Captain Bloody Hook, after all, and villains don’t get happy endings.

 

Cursing under his breath, Killian made up his mind, dread spreading through him. He knew what he had to do.

 

`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`

 

Emma managed to return to her room undetected and was busy sorting through her belongings, trying to decide what to bring with her. She knew she couldn’t take much, so that made her consider carefully every item she wanted, huffing in frustration several times as she realized she wouldn’t be able to fit it in her bag.

 

Digging through her chest, she looked up into the eyes of her mother, a picture of Snow and David framed in silver sitting atop the dresser. _Her parents._ They were going to be so worried about her and so upset. Her heart ached just thinking about it and guilt weighed heavy on her conscious.

 

Nevermind that. When one becomes an adult, they need to make their own decisions, choose their own path. She could write to them, let them know she’s alright. Somehow they would have to make peace with her decision.

 

Strapping her switchblade to her thigh, she buckled her dagger around her waist as well. Killian’s warning to come armed didn’t sit well with her, but she was confident she could charm the pirates into respecting her, and she knew from watching them that they held high regard for their captain. She could only hope that regard would transfer to her, the only woman on board. Emma gulped at the thought. It was time to bid farewell to being a princess.

 

Satisfied that she was ready, she wrote a letter to her parents, sealing it in wax with her royal emblem and tucking it inside one of her drawers. If she left it out, Rebecca was likely to find it before she and Killian could even get away, so she’d have to leave it somewhere they wouldn’t immediately find it.

 

Pulling her cloak over her head, she went out to her terrace and surveyed the grounds, deciding she was less likely to get caught if she climbed down the vines, even if there was a bit more danger involved. She made it down safely, however, and sprinted the distance to the stables, her pack bouncing against her back as she ran.

 

Once she had gotten to the stables, she gazed at the castle, committing the details of her childhood home to her memory. Tears threatened to overcome her, realizing she didn’t know when she would be back (or if she would ever come back), but she took a deep breath, steeling herself. Then she grabbed her saddle from where it was hanging and walked to her horse’s stall.

 

After she had ridden away from the palace, she breathed freer, the anticipation of where she was going spurring her forward. It was time to have a _real_ adventure with her pirate. One she could fully commit to, because she needed him alive. If he was going to face Rumplestiltskin, then she would face him too, and she would use every ounce of magic she could muster to keep Killian safe.

 

She replayed the images from earlier, the way he softly caressed her as he told her all the things he loved about her, and her heart filled with warmth. That man. He could go from earnest and romantic to dashing and cocky in the space of a heartbeat, and it was mesmerizing to watch, his eyebrows nearly having a life of their own.

 

Then there was the way he had made love to her - so passionately and with so much vigor - it sent a frisson of heat to her core just thinking about it, a smirk spreading her lips. At least he was cocky for a reason, because he was most certainly possessed of a cunning amount of talent.

 

Emma slowed as she neared their tree, keeping herself aware of any movement. She didn’t see anyone or anything, but she refrained from calling out in case anyone else should be near and hear her. Lowering herself from her horse and leading him to the side of the lane, she saw something which immediately sent a dagger of fear straight to her heart.

 

There, rolled up and pinned to their tree, was a note.

 

She walked over and pulled it down, untying the ribbon and opening the scroll, finding Killian’s fluid cursive on the page. Holding it up, she began to read.

 

“My dear Swan, By the time you read this, I will be gone. I cannot express to you how much it pains me to leave you behind, but alas, I believe it is the right thing to do, the honorable thing. Do not believe it is because I see you as incapable of protecting yourself or of protecting me. It is, in fact, my own weakness which has prompted me to do a thing which I know will hurt you terribly, but at least I know the pain will be temporary, whereas if you retain bodily harm, I should never forgive myself, and neither would your parents. Your safety is and shall remain my number one concern. Not a day will go by that I won’t think of you, please be well assured of that. I am not brazen enough to expect you to wait for my return, though if I am successful in my venture, my heart will lead me back to you, of that I am certain. My heart is yours, and shall remain forevermore. As ever, Yours truly, K.J.”

 

Emma choked on a sob, the air like acid in her lungs as she struggled to breathe. He left her behind. _He left her!_

 

_No no no no no._ Damnable pirate! He stole her heart and ran away with it, and she was left with...what? A letter!?

 

Tears burned down her cheeks unbidden, and she fell to her knees, crumpling the message in her hand as she sunk, completely broken. Her heart throbbed in her chest, consumed with grief. Not only was he gone, but he was on a mission which would lead him to certain death - she was sure of it - and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

 

“Why!?” she wailed to no one in particular, seeking answers from the universe, an explanation for this...this...conundrum. This utter and piercing pain that was clutching at her unmercifully, body and soul, tearing her apart.

 

“Killian…” she cried more softly, putting her head in her hands.

 

She doesn’t know how long she stayed like that, sobbing her eyes out, unable to function. When she finally ran out of tears, she just breathed, drawing ragged and unsatisfying breaths until she opened her eyes, noting that the sun was setting and she didn’t have a lantern.

 

Wearily, she pushed herself up from her position on the forest floor, taking leaves and dirt with her uncaring. The letter, she rolled up and stuck inside her pocket, knowing that as much as she wanted to burn it and never see it again, she may someday want to read it once more.

 

The ride back to the castle was torture, images of her day replaying in her mind, from the highs to the lows and back again, and all of it - all of it - revolving around thoughts of blue eyes, dark hair and a scintillating smile that she desperately wanted to hold on to, that an ugly voice in the back of her head told her was gone forever.

 

By the time she reached the castle, she was a sight to be seen. Hungry and tired, sick to her stomach, weak from exhaustion, her eyes were likely bloodshot and swollen. Equal parts sad and angry, she stalked through the castle halls, not paying attention to anything at all.

 

In doing so, she almost walked right by her mother, who took one look at her daughter and grabbed her by the arms, putting a caring hand to her cheek and lifting Emma’s face towards hers.

 

“Emma! Emma, what happened?” she asked gently, tilting her head in concern.

 

Emma collapsed into her mother’s outstretched arms, unable to hide something of this magnitude from her and wanting her mother’s comfort, even if she didn’t deserve it. She had lied to her, was fully and willfully ready to run away without so much as an explanation, and the tears flooded her eyes again as she clutched at Snow, grateful that her mother was holding her upright.

 

“Tell me everything,” Snow whispered, rubbing her back soothingly, and Emma thought perhaps it was time she did.

 

In the end, she did relay the story to her mother, leaving out some of the more sordid details of course, but it was still a scandalous story nonetheless. Her mother, to her credit, nodded sympathetically, managing to hold her tongue even though Emma could tell she had plenty to say about her daughter’s choices. She seemed proud of her though, too, giving her credit for her bravery in wanting to help Killian on his quest.

 

By the time her mother had smiled at her, saying, “My daughter is all grown up now,” looking wistful and teary-eyed, Emma was completely exhausted, waving off Snow’s offer to call for food, wanting nothing more than to curl up in her bed and sleep for a thousand years. After one last hug and a warning that she would have to share this news with Emma’s father as her parents did not keep secrets from each other, Emma trudged up the stairs weakly, barely finding her footing.

 

It was dark in her room, barely one candle lit beside her bed, but she didn’t have the strength to light any more, and she didn’t want Rebecca to come fawning, knowing she’d be looking at her with prying eyes and she could _not_ deal with that right now.

 

Sighing, she walked to her dresser and put her bag down, untying her cloak and draping it carelessly over the chair. She would unpack in the morning. With the last bit of energy she had left, she began untying the laces of her corset, turning to walk towards her bed because she had full intention of dropping her clothing piece by piece as she moved.

 

“Don’t stop on my account,” a rich voice rang out in the darkness, and Emma froze, unbelieving.

 

“Killian?”

 

She blinked, trying to peer through the dim light, then saw that there was a dark form lying atop her bed. He attempted to get up, but she was quicker, running to the bed and flinging herself on top of him, pinning him to the mattress with a thousand kisses, peppered all across his cheeks.

 

“How are you-? But why?” she asked excitedly. “Is this really happening?”

 

Killian held her close, rolling them on their sides so he could look at her, his ringed thumb coming up to stroke across her cheekbone.

 

“Aye, love, I’m here. Shhh…” he tried to soothe her as tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes.

 

“I couldn’t leave you, I just couldn’t do it. Got all the way to that island and it was as though my heart was anchored here at your kingdom, tethered to you.” He shook his head, gazing into her eyes with adoration. “I realized my thirst for vengeance was dead and gone, and all I really want is to be with you. To love you, to hold you, and to never be parted with you again.”

 

Emma’s smile was so wide it made her cheeks hurt, and she hauled him to her by the lapels of his vest, kissing him with all her might. _Oh, God._ He was here and he was going to stay!

 

She kissed him hungrily, possessively, and she couldn’t help the word that kept repeating in her brain, much to her satisfaction: _mine._

 

Killian’s hand and hook wandered over her body, and she felt alive again, every touch spreading fire across her skin, the warmth reaching to her soul. Sending a silent thanks to the universe, she pulled back finally to see his smiling face, matching it with her own happy smile, feeling so different now than she had only a few hours before.

 

“Killian, you know what we have to do now, don’t you?”

 

“Aye,” he said, nodding. “I believe it’s time to speak to your parents, Swan. There can’t be anymore sneaking around. Both they - and you - should know that I’m in this for the long haul.” He smiled at her assuredly.

 

Emma swallowed hard, thinking about her conversation with her mother earlier as she stroked at his chest.

 

“How about in the morning?” she asked, earning her a wicked grin in response and a very devious raise of one eyebrow.

 

“See? Pirate,” he replied in jest, before leaning in to kiss her again.


	7. The Epilogue

“You know, Emma…” August trailed off, looking away bashfully as they danced together, the music swelling all around them.

 

“What’s that?” she asked, curious at her longtime friend’s sudden shyness. It wasn’t like him to hold back when he had something to say.

 

His cheeks reddened slightly, and she felt him adjust his grip on her hand. He was holding her at a respectable distance, but she’d never seen him uncomfortable around her until now, his hold going rigid. They’d known each other forever, after all.

 

“I always kind of thought...perhaps you and I…”

 

“Oh!” Emma blushed, trying not to laugh to spare the man some dignity. “Really?” she scrunched her nose at him. “Don’t get me wrong, August, you’re very dear to me, but you’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother!”

 

August smiled, ducking his head. When he looked up again, smirking, she felt relieved, knowing she hadn’t really hurt him too deeply. Not that it mattered, anyway, she was betrothed to another man, so it’s not as if August was making a real play at her. At least, she didn’t believe so.

 

He shrugged his shoulder. “You’re probably right. I suppose we’d fight like siblings, too. I happen to know you have a fondness for kicking me in the shins.”

 

Emma’s mouth dropped open in mock horror. “That’s because you like to steal my food!”

 

August laughed at that, and was about to defend himself when they were startled apart by the insistent tapping and murderous gaze of a pirate, who looked none-too-pleased with their jovial teasing, his fingers gripping August’s shoulder tightly. Emma’s eyes widened, her own laughter halting and the smile on her face changing from merriment to something a bit more darkly amused.

 

“Pardon me, may I cut in?” Killian asked through clenched teeth, the muscles in his jaw popping. It was more of a demand than a question, however, and they both knew it.

 

August gave her an amused look, raising his eyebrows at his childhood friend and giving Killian the once-over before stepping aside, bowing quickly at the princess before departing.

 

Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing as Killian took hold of her, drawing her close, his hand hot on her lower back. She gripped his false hand and laughed to herself as she wondered how much he was probably missing his hook at this moment. Killian stepped forward and they began to move about the room. She looked up into his blue eyes, smoldering with anger. She was surprised there wasn’t actual smoke coming out of his ears.

 

“Jealous, darling?” she asked, unable to hide her smirk. There was that jaw pop again.

 

He tried so hard to play innocent, raising his eyebrows in mock indignation and forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Whatever do I have to be jealous about, love? Though I do know you have a fondness for roguish looking men with facial hair and light eyes.”

 

“Hmm,” Emma hummed amusedly, pressing herself close enough to feel his heat, his body taught like a livewire, rigid against her. She eyed the bit of dark chest hair escaping his shirt, her mind drifting to all the delicious ways she could ease some of his tension. She watched as he shifted his eyes away from her face, his gaze drifting to where August was across the room.

 

“Killian…” she admonished. “Now is not the time to be jealous. We’re at our engagement ball! My father himself has promised my hand to you in marriage. August is just an old friend, I promise.”

 

Killian sighed heavily, his gaze returning to her face and warming instantly at her words, his features relaxing. He pulled her closer, almost obscenely close as her breasts flattened against him, and Emma blushed, knowing that anyone could be watching them. Killian’s answering grin was worth it though, and she smiled softly, so desperately in love with this man that she would do anything just to make him happy.

 

Her father, on the other hand, she had to assume wasn’t nearly as concerned with Killian’s happiness, and it was with great dismay that Emma saw him tug on Killian’s shoulder, pulling him away from his daughter with such a similar expression of restrained fury that she immediately experienced a distinct feeling of dejá vu.

 

“Excuse me, _Captain_ , may I cut in?” he asked, giving Killian a tight smile.

 

Killian slid his tongue behind his teeth, considering, but stepped aside. “But of course, your grace,” he reluctantly agreed, bowing before the king. He gave Emma a look over her father’s shoulder that let her know he was not pleased, but she knew they had no real choice in the matter. Curtseying respectfully to her father, she put her hand out for him to take and he wrapped his arm around her waist protectively, holding her away at a distance as if to prove a point, scowling all the while.

 

Emma tsked at her father. “You realize he’s going to be my husband in another fortnight.” She arched her eyebrow at him in consternation.

 

King David huffed, pursing his lips. “Are you sure, Emma? Because I can still have him dragged out to the forest…”

 

“ _Father…_ ” she groaned, trying not to sound as irritated as she felt. She caught her mother’s eye over the king’s shoulder as they were floating past her and mouthed “help me” as inconspicuously as she could, her eyes wide with desperation as Queen Snow grinned knowingly, shaking her head at her daughter in amusement.

 

It wasn’t as if her father hadn’t agreed to let her marry Killian, her stubborn plea that it was true love finally causing him to relent. Her mother aided their cause as well, somewhat surprisingly vouching for her pirate by telling her father that she believed he had a good heart, and at the end of the day, what more could they really ask for their daughter?

 

Plenty more, if her father had anything to say about it. He’d been livid when he found out about their secret tryst, threatening to have Killian thrown in the dungeon, stomping about the throne room with a bee up his bonnet as they stood before her parents, pleading their case.

 

It was then that Killian had laid it all on the line, getting literally on his knees in complete surrender, parting his hand and hook at his sides and earnestly beseeching her father for her hand in marriage, shocking both Emma and Snow, their eyes locking across the room as Emma’s hand clamped over her mouth, her body shaking like a leaf.

 

_“I know I’ve no right to ask anything of you, your highness, let alone the hand of your only daughter, but I must tell you that there is no life for me without her - without Emma.” He gestured towards her, and Emma’s knees felt like they were about to give way. “I was once lost to my revenge and to a life of piracy, but she brought me back, she saved me from myself, and now I owe her everything - my whole life, my whole heart, every ounce of love I have to give is hers and hers alone.” He smiled up at her, and Emma heard blood rushing in her ears._

 

_The king had stopped moving then, his hard eyes focusing on Killian’s face, scanning over him as he considered his words begrudgingly._

 

_“Is that the only reason you wish to marry my daughter? Out of a sense of gratitude and obligation?” he challenged._

 

_“No! Of course not!” Killian countered. He turned and looked at her, smiling wistfully before continuing and everything else in the room seemed to fade away until it was just the two of them. “Emma is the most beautiful, fierce, and clever lass I’ve ever met. She had me from the first moment I laid eyes on her, but in coming to know her better, I’ve realized that she’s my soul’s true mate.” He gazed at her adoringly, his eyebrows drawn together and his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, and Emma might’ve swooned if her father hadn’t been watching, but as it was her heart was racing and she felt gooseflesh rising on her arms. “I’d do anything for her. I’d give my life for her.” The expression on his face was unlike anything Emma had ever seen, and it was all for her, every word, every tender expression of devotion. She could hardly believe it, her hands shaking as she barely held herself back from going to him, her heart aching in her chest as she awaited her father’s answer._

 

_“Emma?” King David addressed her, sighing loudly. “Are you in agreement with this man? Do you wish to marry him despite his heinous crimes and general disregard for authority?”_

 

_She knew her father was still angry, but the longer she stood there, Killian’s declaration of love reverberating through her as they stared into one another’s eyes, she could hardly find it in herself to care, knowing she would give up her crown willingly for Killian, if that’s what it took for them to be together. Smiling, he tilted his head at her and raised one eyebrow in question, and she suddenly realized that he, too, was awaiting her answer, palm and hook held outward as if in offering. Removing her hand from her mouth, she looked to her mother for affirmation, noting the tears in her eyes and the joy on her face as she gave her daughter a tiny, almost imperceptible nod._

 

_“Emma?” her father asked again._

 

_“What?” she asked dimly, shaking her head, barely able to think straight. “I mean, yes! Yes, I want to marry him, despite the life he’s led thus far, I know him to be a man of honor and I, too, believe that we were meant to be.” She took a deep, shuddering breath to steady herself, tears threatening to break at the corners of her eyes. “Our story was written in the stars, I’m sure of it.”_

 

_At that, Killian reached out and grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it tenderly, holding onto it like he might never let it go, and she placed her other hand on top of his. They beamed at one another, the happiness overwhelming them both, causing their faces to shine._

 

_“Well, it seems that I am overruled then,” her father finally admitted, clearing his throat in obvious discomfort. “But I fully expect Captain Jones here to assimilate to life at the palace, and it goes without saying that any form of piracy or stealing will be strictly forbidden.”_

 

_Emma blinked a few times, coming out of her trance, and with a gentle squeeze, she released Killian’s hand, going to her father and throwing her arms around him in an exuberant hug, almost knocking him over. After the initial shock, her father chuckled softly, cradling her head as he held her to him. He whispered in her ear, “I just want you to be happy, Emma. As happy as your mother and I are.”_

 

_“I will be,” she whispered back with complete and utter certainty, melting into her father’s strong arms and allowing herself just to be his little girl for one more moment._

 

Of course, that isn’t to say it was all smooth sailing from then on out. Her parents still needed to get to know Killian better, to which Emma suggested perhaps some sparring would be a good activity for her father and Killian to engage in. Boy, was she ever wrong about that. She still remembers the first time they joined her and her mother afterwards, King David’s face twisted in a scowl and Killian’s lit up in mirth, way too cocky for his own good.

 

_“Your highness, I’m sure it was just a fluke. Next time you’ll get the better of me, I’m certain.”_

 

_Her father crossed his arms over his chest petulantly, his nostrils flaring as he turned to address Killian. “It’s alright, Captain, I’m sure in your ‘line of work’ the need for swordplay arises a bit more frequently.”_

 

_“Too right,” Killian conceded, shrugging his shoulders. “‘Tis a testament to your peace keeping abilities, highness.”_

 

_King David rolled his eyes at the compliment, huffing as he collapsed into a chair. Thinking for a moment, he seemed to come up with a new idea. “Do you ride horseback, Killian?”_

 

_Killian looked at her, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Why, as a matter of fact, I do.”_

 

Now, Killian claimed (in the small number of moments they’d been able to have to themselves since) that he had been trying to let her father win at their little games and sports, but could he help it if he was just naturally talented at, well...everything? Emma and her mother were left to soothe her father’s wounded ego, and Emma was beginning to worry that her father would wear a perpetual scowl on his face from now on whenever Killian was around.

 

Which put her in the spot she was in now, dancing at her engagement ball with her father, when all she really wanted to do was spend some time with Killian, basking in the glow of their newfound love. It _was_ their engagement ball, after all.

 

Thankfully, her mother came to the rescue. Dancing close with Killian (which Emma noted, her mother didn’t seem to mind at all - a genuine smiled plastered on her face) she finally nudged into her father’s shoulder, asking with a smile, “Can I steal my husband for the next song?”

 

Of course, her father could hardly resist that offer, smiling that affected smile he saved for her mother alone, the way they still acted like lovesick fools over one another both sickeningly sweet and commendable. He reluctantly turned her over to Killian once again, and Emma sighed in relief as she returned to his waiting arms.

 

“I thought he’d never let me go.” They began dancing again.

 

Killian smiled, his dimple showing. “Aye. I probably wouldn’t either if I were in his position.” He winked at her, and Emma’s cheeks warmed, a flush spreading over them, she was certain.

 

Killian immediately eyed her with concern. “That said, it’s getting a bit warm in here. Care to take a stroll out of doors for a moment, catch your breath, love?”

 

Emma almost groaned, it sounded so heavenly. “Yes, let’s.”

 

Keeping her arm looped through his, they made their way to the terrace doors, Emma glancing over her shoulder to make sure her parents were still occupied and no one had taken any particular notice of them leaving the ballroom. It probably wasn’t the most polite thing to do, sneaking off like they were, but she figured getting some fresh air outside was better than what she really wanted to do, which was the same as it was at every ball - retire upstairs to her room. Although, _sleeping_ was the last thing on her mind now, especially with her pirate in tow.

 

Killian grabbed a drink for her as they were leaving the ballroom and offered it to Emma once they were outside, ever the gentleman.

 

“Thank you,” she said gratefully, taking a long sip. It was quite a warm evening, and she’d been dancing so long, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken refreshment.

 

Gazing up at the sky, she noticed how the stars were providing the only bit of light aside from the glow of the ballroom shining out through the large picture windows.Given how little light there was,  Emma still didn’t miss the way Killian’s eyes darkened as he perused her form, a wicked grin slowly forming on his face. She was wearing a red dress, and his eyes paused when they came to the sweetheart neckline, her breasts displayed attractively.

 

“You look beautiful this evening, darling, have I told you that?”

 

Emma smiled giddily, humming in the back of her throat. “I know.” She raised an eyebrow at him and slid just a bit closer, setting her drink down on a ledge.

 

Killian was out of his pirate attire and wearing something a bit more formal for their engagement ball, and Emma had hardly had a chance to admire how handsome he looked, his brown jacket and crisp white shirt equally as flattering on him as the all-black and leather. She clutched at his lapels, eyeing his chest hair again, amused that he couldn’t be bothered to button this shirt up all the way, either. Not that she was complaining.

 

“You look quite dashing yourself, Captain.”

 

“I know.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, tilting his head unapologetically.

 

Killian’s hands went to her waist, his grin widening the closer she got. He eyed her lips, and she felt them tingle, visceral memory of all the kisses they had shared thus far burned into her memory. Her hands slid up his chest and wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him down to her as her eyes fluttered closed. Then his lips were pressed against hers, warm and soft and inviting.

 

They both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief the moment their lips collided. It seemed like it had been so long - _too long_ \- since they had been able to kiss one another properly. “Mmm…” she moaned, his tongue sliding between her parted lips, setting her blood aflame. He was going to ruin her lipstick, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care, not when his hand was gliding up her side - his palm hot against her ribs - and his tongue was performing maneuvers that should be deemed illegal, turning her insides to liquid. He backed her into the wall, and she allowed his weight to fall against her, trapping her there in his embrace. The kiss quickly escalated into something altogether lacking in propriety, but she felt certain no one would be able to see them where they were, clothed in the darkness.

 

Killian’s hand rose up her side, coming to palm at her breast, his other arm drawing her close to him so that she had to stand on her tippy-toes to reach him. Gasping into his mouth, she savored each sensation as his thumb grazed over her nipple, his knee slowly sliding between her thighs  where she was now burning with desire for him.

 

Their escape for cooler air was all for naught as the kiss went on, lips seeking and taking, tongues dipping and dancing as they pressed impossibly close to one another, their bodies completely entangled. It all served to generate untold amounts of heat, Emma grinding her hips against his leg unabashedly.

 

Suddenly Killian pulled back, looking completely wrecked and wanting, his hair sticking up where Emma’s fingers had been threading through it. His lips were swollen and redder than usual, and he was breathing so hard it took him a moment to speak, closing his eyes briefly as if to gather his wits. When he did find his voice, it seemed as though he was feeling remorseful for his actions.

 

“I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you, Swan.” He shook his head softly.

 

Emma smiled, cupping his cheek and running her thumb over it. “I would despair if you did.”

 

He smiled at that, ducking his head bashfully. “You know what I mean. I...we…” He shook his head again, this time with more emphasis, a bit of self-loathing coming through. “I may never be the man you want me to be.” Even though he had fought for her - for _them_ \- he still felt guilty about seducing the princess in secret, especially when he spent time around her parents. She knew they were trying their best to accept him, but it was a process, one that wouldn’t happen overnight. It seemed like he was growing on them, however, and Emma was happy enough with that, knowing they would have many years to become a true family.

 

Gently cupping his jaw, she lifted his head to look at her, sighing softly before speaking. “Killian...did it ever occur to you that you already _are_ the man I want you to be?” That got him to smile a little, his eyes searching hers. “In any case, you’re the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, and the sooner you get used to that idea, the better.”

 

He smiled at her then, a real, beautiful smile that reached all the way to his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “I don’t deserve you, truly.”

 

Emma took another deep breath, pausing momentarily to wonder if she should tell him what she was about to, knowing just how cocky he might be afterwards, but feeling like he just might deserve to be.

 

“You want to know the truth?” She pressed herself closer to him again, eliciting a small growl from the back of his throat. “This is _exactly_ what I wanted to do to you that first night I met you here, at the ball.”

 

His confidence returned with bravado. “Did you now?” he teased, rocking his hips into her, the ridge of his erection pressing into her belly. “Well, if _that’s_ the case, far be it from me to deny you what your heart desires…” He leaned down, his lips claiming hers again in a fierce kiss, and Emma wondered dimly how in the world she was going to stop herself from begging him to take her right there against the wall, an entire ballroom full of people be damned.

 

Killian broke away, his lips ghosting over her jaw and down her neck, his hand holding her head aside. Emma gulped for air, clutching his shoulders. She was having trouble breathing, let alone standing up straight, the night air making her skin tingle where his mouth had left it wet. It was not the only place she felt wet, and she was beginning to throb with need, her desire for this man unquenchable.

 

“Killian...we can’t...we shouldn’t…” His face was buried between her breasts, his tongue doing something decidedly naughty there as her fingers scratched over his scalp.

 

His face popped up, smug grin fixed firmly in place. “You’re absolutely right, darling. We’re far too exposed here. But…” he added, popping the ‘t’ as his eyes scanned down her body. Then he bent down, finding the hem of her skirt and lifting it over his head, crawling beneath it.

 

“Killian!” Emma squealed, every nerve in her body coming to life as she felt his hand smooth up her thigh, and his head nudge between her legs as she parted them for him obediently. He didn’t even bother to remove her undergarment, he just pulled it aside, and when his tongue made contact with her swollen flesh she exhaled shakily, her eyes falling closed as she leaned against the wall for support. “Oh dear…” she lamented to no one in particular, her pulse ratcheting up higher and higher as he worked his tongue over her in expert fashion.

 

It was in that very vulnerable position that her father found her, his eyes scanning over the terrace, probably looking for Killian.

 

“Emma?” he asked from the doorway, and Emma startled, halting Killian’s movements as she fanned her skirt out wider, attempting to cover him completely.

 

“Yes, Father?” Emma got out in an unnaturally high voice, swallowing thickly as her cheeks flamed.

 

“What’re you doing out here? Your mother and I wanted to introduce Killian to the chancellor. Is he out here with you?”

 

Emma’s eyes grew wide, and she could feel Killian holding still beneath her skirts.

 

“No! I think he had to use the lavatory,” she lied. “I’ll go find him in a minute. I was just getting some fresh air.” She smiled at her father reassuringly.

 

King David’s eyes scanned over her, and she was grateful that it was dark outside, though her hand still rose to cover her neck subconsciously, the feel of Killian’s whiskers still fresh against her skin.

 

Her father paused for a moment, seeming to hesitate, before he started backing away, and Emma released the breath that she had been holding. “Alright. Bring him ‘round when you find him!”

 

“I will!” she called, laughing to herself as she considered how easy that would be.

 

As soon as he was gone, Killian’s tongue swiped against her heated flesh again, his mouth closing over her, and Emma stepped back, leaning against the wall for support as she swore under her breath. Still, the threat of getting caught had only served to incite her arousal further, and every movement of his talented mouth was like fireworks now, the pleasure bordering on unbearable. His scruff scraped against her thighs in the close confines, adding to the entire experience, and all Emma could do was hold onto the wall for dear life and enjoy the wild ride. It wasn’t long before she was teetering on the precipice, her nerves so tightly strung she felt like she might burst, tense as she was that next her mother would show up at the door. Then it all came crashing down, wave after wave of pleasure surging through her, her hips jerking forward and a tiny cry escaping her mouth that she was unable to hold back. Killian worked her through it, and by the time she came down from the high, she felt so good she was ready to do it all over again, or drag him into the nearest closet and demand he make love to her properly, her core feeling hollow and wanton.

 

With a few soft kisses against her thigh, he pulled away, and Emma tried to collect herself, her breaths coming shallow and ragged. Looking around, she helped lift her skirt and Killian popped out, rising to stand quickly, straightening his clothing as he did. Her eyes darted immediately to his pants, tight and straining where his erection was unmistakably standing at attention. The look on his face was positively sinful, his tongue running across his lip lasciviously as his hand rose up to wipe at the corners of his mouth.

 

He pressed himself against her again, his thumb gliding over her cheek as his face took on an affectionate gaze. “Well, Emma. I believe you’re supposed to go and find me?”

 

Emma chuckled, grasping his lapels. “You’re impossible.”

 

He tilted his head at her, his nose brushing against hers. “And you love me for it.” He grinned, deep and wide, his eyes twinkling.

 

“I do,” Emma admitted, groaning as he pressed his hips tight against hers. Pressing her lips to his firmly, they lingered there, unmoving, enjoying one last kiss.

 

“You’re going to pay for that later, Killian,” she whispered darkly after pulling back.

 

He raised an eyebrow at her, stepping back slightly. “Oh, I most certainly hope so,” he said, winking.

 

Emma shook her head, running her hand down his arm until their fingers entwined. “Come, I believe you have a chancellor to meet.” She tugged him towards the doorway.

 

Killian leaned into her neck, the low rumble of his voice doing things to her insides as his scruff scraped against her skin lightly. “Did I mention you look positively ravishing, darling? Especially now that your cheeks have gone red.”

 

Emma gasped, pretending to be affronted as she smiled so wide her cheeks hurt.

 

“Killian….” she groaned. Smiling her secret smile as they entered the ballroom, she hoped with all her might that it would _always_ be like this between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so enjoyed writing this verse! I hope you enjoyed it, too.


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